


Damaged Goods

by L0kiL0v3r



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Blood and Violence, Character Development, Connor Deserves Happiness, Developing Friendships, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gun Violence, Organized Crime, Partners in Crime, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Connor, Protective Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Sexual Fantasy, Soft Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L0kiL0v3r/pseuds/L0kiL0v3r
Summary: Six years after the revolution, a skilled android tech turned scrapper entangled with the cities shady clientele, repairs a damaged RK800 she acquired in a back-alley business deal. The pair work together to navigate human emotions, questionable morals, and a clumsy romance as they both find their place in this new world.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 85





	1. Safe Haven

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! So I'm late to the party, new to the fandom, and know next to nothing about writing realistic tech lingo. What could go wrong?
> 
>  **Relevant Game Path Notes:**  
>  -Connor-51 Fell off the roof saving Emma.  
>  **-Connor-52 died saving Hank from JB300 at Stratford Tower (Public Enemy) [This Connor]**  
>  -Connor-53 killed by Connor-60 after waking all of the androids in CyberLife tower.  
> -Pacifist Markus (Best Ending). 
> 
> **AU that will deviate from cannon when it serves the needs of the plot or my preferences**

Icy rain fell at a steady pace, setting the chill deep in my bones. I gathered my hood close against my collar to keep the wintery mix of cold air and precipitation at bay. Quickening my strides, I hurried through the darkened alleyway. Andy didn’t like to be kept waiting. And I didn’t like to be seen in the seedier parts of town. In and out. Quick and simple. That was best. Before I could knock, the rusty garage door clattered along its track. 

“Thought you’d fucked off and stood me up again.”

“I told you, I got cut off by a protest—”

“Not my fucking problem. You’re out of favors.” 

Andy turned away from me and headed towards the back. I followed and kept a safe distance. He was predictable. Dangerous when he wanted to be, but otherwise very predictable. 

“Don’t tell me you’re growing a conscience.” I laughed to diffuse the tension.

“Don’t start.” He flipped the switch at the back room and the overhead halogens flickered.

“Alright…what do you have for me this time?” 

His glare burned into me like a hot knife and I straightened, to show him that he didn’t intimidate me (even if he should have). Undeterred, Andy pulled back the dust cover from the android on the table. I stepped up to get a closer look.

**Thirium pump? Easy.  
Right visual sensor? Needs replacing.  
Left arm. Shattered…but it should be easy enough to find a replacement.  
Are those bullet holes…  
What happened to you?**

“Ellie!”

I looked up, “I’ll take him. Usual price for heavily damaged goods?”

“No. Hazard fee for keeping me waiting, storage fee for hauling this shit around in my car for the past three days, and a service fee because I feel like it. Triple the price—“

“Bullshit.”

“RK800.” Andy interrupted. 

“What are you talking about?”

“As much of a pain in my ass as you are…discretion is your specialty. That goes a long way these days.”

“Only half of that was a compliment.” I glowered.

“Then be gracious and accept it.”

“RK800? What was that model created to do?”

“All I know is that this is the same model as that android they had hunting down deviants back when all this shit started.” Andy gestured to the cadaver of broken parts on the table. “Seems our boy got into an accident and our friends at Cyberlife scrapped him, then sent another soulless bastard to pick up where he left off.”

“ _You’re_ the Deviant Hunter huh…” I thought aloud. 

“Underwhelming, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well its a pile of scrap now. It had one job. Keep the androids in their place. Must not have been too good at it.” 

To avoid indulging his ignorance, I refused to dignify his commentary with a direct response.  
“Wonder what happened to the RK800 series after the revolution. They don’t just make prototypes like this one at a time.” 

“Well this is the only one I have. You can take it or leave it.”

I leaned closer to get a better look at the android. **Are you really about to pay triple for this one?**

“Didn’t they destroy prototypes? They never tossed ‘em in the landfill for people like us to find before.” I challenged. “It’s an airtight system, Andy. Or it was. I could pull a couple letters and numbers out my ass and scam someone for a couple thousand dollars too—”

“Don’t worry about how I get my shit. It’s legit. Keep runnin’ your mouth and I’ll sell this plastic prick to someone who doesn’t ask so many goddamn questions.” 

Now he was agitated. **For good reason.** The new android laws had just been passed, which made this market more of a thorny business than before. What was already an underground trade had become even higher stakes, which of course deterred all but the hardened criminals. **And me…**

“Fine.” I pulled the roll of cash from my pocket and put it on the table. “Help me get him to my car—”

“Him…” Andy muttered under his breath with disdain. 

**But you still took my money. Asshole.**

I folded the android’s arms across his chest, to make it easier to maneuver him without dangling limbs. His head lolled to the side as I sat him upright. Andy’s irritated scowl flitted over me. But I ignored him and used his considerable brawn to get my new project into the car. He unceremoniously dumped the mangled figure into the back.

“Hey! Easy. Don’t make my job harder. He’s fragile.”

“Fuck off, Ellie.” 

Andy swaggered off into the night and while I was appreciative of the help, I was even happier to see him go. For a few moments, I leaned against the open trunk and stared down at the RK800. He’d be a piece of work, but **_if_** I could get him up and running again…the possibilities were endless.

“Let’s get you back to the shop, pal.” With a gentle pat on his shoulder, I shut the hatch.

* * *

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have an extra pair of hands to help me when I got home. I backed into the garage to make unloading a bit easier on myself. This was always my least favorite part. 

I hooked his good arm over my shoulder and heaved with all of my strength. Androids always made it look so easy. Their precise movements made them light on their feet, like agile dancers executing well practiced maneuvers. In reality, they were heavier than they looked. For someone as slight as I was, at least. This RK800 was no exception. 

A misstep. I lost my footing and his dead weight collapsed like lead. 

“No no no no!” 

I dove to catch him so that a fall wouldn’t cause any more damage. We both landed on the floor with a painful thud. Thankfully, I took the brunt of the fall and his sturdy frame landed on top of me. The bruise along my side was already forming.

“Shit.” I groaned.

With considerable effort, I mustered enough leverage to push him off of me. Now, somehow, I would need to lift his dead weight to place him atop the work station. A fancier operation, such as the repair centers down at the old CyberLife stores wouldn’t have had this problem, with their state-of-the-art repair modules that secured and lifted lifeless androids. Those were a lot harder to come by. Not just because of the logistical issues that came with acquiring such a device outside of Jericho’s walls, but the cost of such machinery was prohibitive in itself. That was an expense that I certainly couldn’t afford after cleaning out my bank account to get this RK800.

As best as I could, I maneuvered him into a fireman’s lift and fought to support our combined weight. I labored through each step until I could rest him on the edge. Out of breath and sore from what was probably a pulled muscle or two, I leaned against the table and stared at the sterile white of his face. 

“You are more trouble than your worth. You know that?” 

**Shut up and get to work.**

More than a day went by without interruption. New parts. Diagnostics. Rewiring. Another round of diagnostic troubleshooting. More new parts. Rinse and repeat.

The work was grueling, though not without reward. Each new component and successful diagnostic brought me a step closer to reviving this android. In a way, repairs to deactivated androids were a bit easier. Normally, technicians (and the androids themselves) preferred restoration methods that didn’t risk shut down, which could complicate an otherwise simple process. That wasn’t an issue when they were already unresponsive. 

Once he was physically operational, I needed to flush the Thirium circulatory system. In my experience, blue blood was always a fickle substance. In open air it evaporated after a few hours of exposure. That was common knowledge. In a closed circulatory system, especially in neglected androids that had been left to decay like this one, it congealed to gelatinous sludge. Functioning androids avoided this problem all together with routine Thirium replacements, like oil changes in a car for lack of a better comparison. 

This next step wasn’t very high tech. Good old fashion air pressure, a bucket, patience, and three gallons or rubbing alcohol would do the trick. Once I’d cleared his system of the gelled substance, I emptied two canisters of blue blood into the receptacle located in the chest. It was nowhere near enough to sustain optimal performance, but I didn’t have a lot on hand. Thirium was another commodity in short supply. 

**Mental note to self: Find more Thirium ASAP.**

Assuming that this android could be reactivated in the first place, the current volume of Thirium would support basic functions. Barely. Such low levels would eventually lead to overheating and thermal damage to other sensitive processing biocomponents. I’d seen a few prototypes in my time, but they’d all been alpha testing androids. Never ones built for real-world test drives like him. So there was no telling what kinds of compatibility issues he might have. All the more reason to reduce the risk of irreparable damage to parts that might be impossible to find replacements for. 

For now the only thing that I knew for certain was that this RK800 could survive… _in theory_. For how long? That remained to be seen…

I swept the stray tendrils of hair from my face, only to realize that I’d smeared streaks of blue blood on my temple in the same motion. 

“Dammit.” 

I cursed and hastily reached for a nearby rag. For the first time in hours, I allowed myself to admire my own handiwork. Without proprietary CyberLife tools, the repairs were not as refined as they could been. The replacement limbs were refurbished, slightly discolored with time and use, but still functional. The bullet holes in the torso were neatly trimmed and patched, leaving behind the faint outlines. All imperfections the synthetic skin could visually conceal, even if the indentations could still be felt. 

Even with these imperfections, the android was in better shape than I was. I was running on a dozen cups of coffee, a single pack of instant ramen noodles, and a three hour nap over the course of two days. I couldn’t handle another minute of repairs if I tried. Not to mention, I had another project to deliver to an impatient client in eleven hours. 

**The project that you haven't even started on…**

If I weren’t strapped for cash, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But I was. And the components that he still needed weren’t going to buy themselves. 

**Let’s see if this was all worth it…**

I keyed in the activation command via the diagnostic terminal. My breath stilled in my chest, fearful that he might not respond. Or worse, that he _would_ awaken, dangerously disoriented and in distress. After all, he was nearly destroyed. The experience couldn’t have been a pleasant one. 

To my surprise and delight, the LED on his temple flickered and cycled a steady blue, to indicate that the command had been registered. The white and grey body was soon concealed beneath the flesh-tone liquid exterior. I leaned forward, watching as his face took on a more human appearance. 

Without meaning to, I touched his cheek in admiration. My suspicions had been correct. There was something special about him. I startled when his eyes opened. At first his expression was vacant and devoid of awareness, although that quickly faded into a look of confusion. 

**Oh my. Such beautiful brown eyes—** Right away, I curtailed those thoughts.

“Run self-diagnostics.” 

His LED flickered when he registered the prompt, then spun yellow as he processed. Meanwhile, I glanced up at the terminal screen. From there I could see the interface that, presumably, he could see in his mind’s eye. I watched as he scanned thousands of lines of his code per second. 

“I have detected 38 hardware defects. I’m unable to establish a connection with CyberLife to report these malfunctions.” His voice was smokey, a surprising, though not at all unwelcome discovery. 

**Christ on a bike. Thats one sinful voice, if ever I heard one—** Again, I forced myself to refocus on the task at hand. 

“How many of those affect critical biocomponents?”

“The most urgent malfunction affects my thirium pump regulator. The needed #8456w regulator has been replaced with an incompatible #8451 model. My Thirium 310 volume is also critically low.”

I sighed, “I was worried about that. The 8451 model was all that I had left. I’ll find a compatible replacement for you as soon as I can. Blue blood on the other hand, that I _can_ help with.” I turned away to get the last canister of the synthetic liquid from the cabinet. He sat upright and watched me cross the room. His gaze scanned his surroundings and then he looked down at himself. Outwardly, he didn’t show surprise or worry as he assessed the repairs. “Do you have a name?”

“My name is Connor. I am the android sent by Cyberlife. I should return to Cyberlife tower to be repaired so that I can resume my mission. I have sustained critical damages.” He started to get up.

“Wait a second.” I pulled up my stool to sit beside him. 

“I’m afraid I must insist—“

“Drink this first. CyberLife can wait.” 

He hesitated, analyzing the blue blood before accepting my offering. 

“Do you remember how you sustained critical damages?”

“I was…in pursuit of a deviant…” his LED flashed red, and he flinched. “I’m sorry. It seems my memory has been corrupted.”

“That’s ok. It’s probably good that you don’t remember.”

“Where are we? I don’t recognize this as an authorized CyberLife repair center or the Detroit Police station’s android facilities...”

“My workshop.” I answered. “It’s not technically a CyberLife repair center, but it’s as close as you’re going to get to one of those these days.”

“I am the property of Cyberlife, on loan to the Detroit Police Department. It is a criminal offense to interfere and tamper with law enforcement equipment. I’m afraid that I am going to have to file a report.” 

“Equipment?” I scoffed, “I’ll take my chances.”

“Why would you take such a risk?”

“That’s a loaded question, Connor. You really are the android that was sent to help hunt down the deviants, aren’t you?”

“I’m not authorized to disclose that information.”

I paused, wondering what the truth would do to him. From his controlled behavior and precise words, it was obvious that he himself had not deviated. Never mind the fact that he referred to himself as equipment. I wasn’t sure if I felt sorry for him or if I was glad that he did not know how to _feel_ any of the unpleasant emotions that must come along with being resurrected from the dead. I leaned closer, to level with him in some way. Surely as a detective android he’d be able to sense my honesty.

“When you were damaged, you **were** returned to the Cyberlife distribution center for deactivation and destruction. I’m positive another RK800 model was sent to replace you. But…I doubt that it made much of a difference in the end. Six years ago the deviants revolted and they succeeded. The world is a very different place than you remember, Connor.”

He faltered, “I don’t understand.”

“CyberLife doesn’t exist anymore—at least not in its previous iteration. They don’t own you or any other androids for that matter. They can’t manufacture your people or parts. No one can.”

He was thinking, the LED spun a steady yellow and I wondered what thoughts could be racing through his mind. 

“If I was supposed to be destroyed, why wasn’t I? Why have you reactivated me?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know why they didn’t physically dismantle you. My guess is that they intended to and somehow the revolution delayed the process. That wouldn’t be too unreasonable, considering the new laws.”

“I am unable to establish any wireless connections…”Now I was certain that he was trying to collect information that would allow him to make sense of this situation, one that his programming probably wasn’t prepared for. 

“Your transmitters are damaged. Blunt force trauma will do that.” I supplied. “Tomorrow I’ll try to find more parts. I’m not going to lie to you, they’re hard to find so it will take some time to get everything you need. But you should be able to physically interface with other systems. Outside of that, you’ll just have to rely on your AI programming and adapt.”

“If deviant androids revolted and succeeded, how were you able to acquire me or any of these replacement biocomponents?” Connor finally inquired.

“That’s a great question. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you all of my secrets.” I flashed a smile at him. “All that you need to know is that I’m here to help. And all that I want is to patch you up.”

“Why?”

“I ask myself that question everyday…”

“So there **have** been others.” Connor deduced. 

I scoffed, “Of course. You _were_ a detective in your past life.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Out of the kindness of my heart, I guess. I give androids a second chance at life. That’s all you need to worry about.”

“Androids are not alive.”

His words betrayed what could almost be mistaken for confusion. There was no point in arguing with him. If he did not see androids as living, sentient beings, I couldn’t convince him of this. That was a realization that he would have to come to on his own. 

Before I could say anything else, he fell back against the workbench and writhed in what could have been pain. From my point of view, it was. From his, I’m sure it was considered an unfortunate glitch. 

“Connor!” 

I leaned over him, searching the terminal screen for some indication as to what hardware was failing. His mouth was agape as if he were trying to drag in a breath or maybe even speak. I turned to grab his old 8456w model of Thirium pump regulator from the pile of discarded parts in the hopes that it was not too damaged to function.

“Hold on.” 

I pressed my hand against his chest and his skin deactivated over the area so that I was able to remove the incompatible hardware. His body jolted, eyes searching franticly. I immediately replace the damaged part and he began to resume normal system operations. 

“Is that better?” Connor stilled, his LED flashed red as he lay there. Whether he was aware of it or not, fear shone in his eyes. Equally as conflicted, with unexpected emotions of my own, I found myself holding his hand. “You’re ok.” 

Without even realizing, he squeezed my hand for comfort and reassurance. “I thought…I thought I was going to shut down again.” His voice wavered, betraying his fear. 

**He fears death. Interesting.**

“I won’t let that happen ever again. I promise.” 

His gaze was calculating, as if he were scanning me in search of lies. Somehow, he chose to trust me. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

This time when Connor sat upright he was silent, almost contemplative. I used the opportunity to do one last assessment of the repairs that I’d made and ones that still had to be completed. 

“Overall you were lucky. The worst of the damage was cosmetic. I guess our friends down at CyberLife couldn’t be bothered to patch you up. Probably easier to ship out a replacement or scrap the whole line and roll out a new model all together.”

Now that he was in a sitting position, I could safely remove the connection cable from the base of his skull. He watched me now with the same lost look in his eyes. I felt sorry for him, as I did with all of the androids I’d met over the years. Fortunately for him, or perhaps unfortunately, he had awakened into a new era. “Oh well…their loss. You’re not disposable. There’s nothing I can’t fix with the right parts and a little time.” 

“What is your name?”

I stilled, keeping my eyes fixed on the pile of blue stained rags. “Eleonora. Friends call me Ellie.”

“What would you like me to call you?”

“You tell me, Connor. What would _you_ like to call me?”

“I don’t have a preference.”

“Oh, come on.” I grinned, “Pick your favorite.”

The LED spun yellow and he was quiet, thinking deeply as though it were a challenging question. “Eleonora.”

I folded my arms, “And how’d you come to that decision?” 

“That is your name.” My hopes fell, disheartened with the realization that his choice lacked any deeper thought. Right away Connor seemed to pick up on this and went on to explain. “Ellie suggests that we are familiar with each other. We have only just met. But…I think it would be nice to be friends.”

I hid the smile that threatened to betray my delight with that answer, “I’ve been wrist deep in your bio components for the last forty-eight hours. I’d say I know you pretty well already.” 

“Then it is a one-sided familiarity.” Connor replied. 

“Touché. Can you stand?” 

“Yes, I think so.” He swung his legs off the edge and tested his weight on each leg. 

“Ok. The house is just across the walkway.” I grabbed a blanket from the chair nearby and draped it over his shoulders. Even if he was an android and could disable his temperature sensitivity (if he even had any in the first place), it seemed cruel to ask him to traipse through the snow in nothing but boxer briefs. 

“That isn’t necessary. If it is more convenient for you, I could remain on standby here until you are ready to resume repairs—”

“I’m not about to park you in my garage like a car. Besides, I need to keep an eye on you.” I flicked off the lights and waited just outside of the door for him to follow. After a moment of hesitation, he followed my lead and we entered the house through the side door. “Wipe your feet on the mat.”

He looked down and slid his feet across the doormat. Although once I thought about it, I realized that it wasn’t just his feet that were covered in muck. His features were dusted with smudges of blue blood, grime from wherever he’d been stored for the last few years, and snowmelt. “Actually…you need a shower. I figured I would spare you the indignity of a sponge bath, but I can’t have you in my house covered in god knows what.”

“I’ve never taken a shower before.” He mentioned. Although the prospect of the activity appeared intriguing to him. 

“I guess the sterilization labs are a bit different.” I paused, “Showering is super simple. Rinse, lather, and repeat. Sound doable?”

“Repeat how many times?” He asked. The genuine innocence in his eyes was a bit disconcerting. 

“As many times as it takes until your clean.”

Connor followed me through the house, taking in his surroundings with an observant glance. 

“You live alone?”

“Most of the time.” I answered, hoping to keep my answer as vague as possible. I never liked answering that question. 

“Where are the other androids that you have repaired?”

“All over. Some keep in touch. Candice is the closest. She’s an AX400 I worked with six years ago. She lives just down the street with Mr. Henry. After his wife passed on, he needed someone to keep him company because of his dementia and other health issues. Candice always enjoyed visiting Henry and Ingrid before their health took a turn. And just a few months ago, there was a YK200 named Justin. He took to her right away and they all seem happy together.”

“AX400s are not programmed to be caretakers.” 

“No, but she adapted. She always had a warm nurturing personality.”

“Is that what you did with all of the androids you helped? You assign them to new roles?”

“No. They all found their own paths eventually. A lot of them made friends with other deviant androids and fled to Canada or started living in groups in the area. Some took off and I never heard from them again. And some just needed a safe place to stay until they figured out what worked for them. Take Ralph for example, he’s a WR600 I helped right when this all started. He’s not very good with people or other androids really, but has a kind heart and an affinity for plants. At the time I was seeing this guy who owned some cabins on Lake Superior. He agreed to let Ralph live in one if he cleared the trails and kept an eye on the place. As far as I know, he spends most of his time in the woods. It makes him happy, keeps him safe, and it keeps him away from people.”

“What do you get out of this arrangement?”

“Sometimes Ralph drops by in the middle of the night to plants flowers for me. It’s way better than when he would leave dead birds or squirrels he found on the trails as gifts…but he always meant well.”

“I meant, how do you benefit from helping androids.” Connor clarified.

“As you can see, I don’t.” I gestured to our surroundings. “It isn’t about me.”

Again his LED spun yellow, indicating that he was deep in thought. I was starting to get the impression that I could expect this cautionary indicator signal more often than the content blue I was accustomed to. Despite his contemplation, Connor didn’t say a word. He simply followed me upstairs. 

“Grab a towel and washcloth from the closet please?” 

I reached into the shower, I turned the faucet to start the water and held my hand under the spray until it warmed up a bit.

“Seventy-five degrees fahrenheit is the optimal temperature to avoid internal thermal spikes. Without the necessary level of Thirium, my biocomponents are susceptible to overheating.” Connor stated. I jumped, startled that he’d so quietly joined me in the bathroom. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You’re fine. I just…didn’t hear you come in.” Stepping back to look at him, “There’s a fresh bar of soap in the dish and some shampoo and conditioner at the back of the tub.”

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

With that, I left him to it and staggered into my room to get ready for bed. Once I’d pulled on a sleep shirt I flopped back onto the bed to check my messages.

**Threatening emails from the client. Check.  
Past due payment notifications. Check. Check.**

“Eleonora?” He called from the shower, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I need assistance….” 

My expression scrunched, and I got to my feet. “What’s the matter?”

“I have discovered that I was not designed with the ability to reach my back…”

“That’s not a design flaw. That’s a human thing.”

When Connor pulled back the curtain, I was careful not to let my eyes wonder. If there was a flicker of self-awareness in him, I didn’t want to incense it by inspecting nonessential equipment without his permission. (Even if he had invited me into the bathroom while he showered.) 

**Keep it PG or you’re going to need a 75 degree shower yourself…**

“Can you reach your back?” Connor asked, amazed by the possibility.

“Most of the time.” I accepted the soapy rag and he turned to face away from me.

“Is that common?”

“I guess it’s pretty common. I’ve never really thought about it. Mostly it just depends on how flexible the person is.” 

He hummed, considering my answer as I continued to lather his back. Beneath the grime, I discovered a peppering of freckles on his shoulders. Before I realized it, I was admiring the way the foamy suds drifted down his sides, his narrow hips, and his perfectly manufactured ass. I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks and I forced myself to avert my gaze. 

**Control yourself woman!**

“There. Squeaky clean. I left you some cloths on the counter.” 

I handed back the washrag and hurried out of the room. None the wiser, he thanked me and returned to meticulously lathering himself. I didn’t trust myself not to peak, so I hurried back downstairs to grab a cold glass of water until I could be sure that Connor had finished showering. 

Over the years I had worked with countless androids and I’d **never** reacted to any of them this way. Even the few Traci’s that had come through, never registered as attractive to me in any way. Perhaps it was the life that they fled that placed them in a vulnerable category. I saw them as lost souls in need of a helping hand, not people to be taken advantage of.

“What the hell is your problem.” I muttered, cursing myself for having to be attracted to _this_ particular android. I gulped down another mouthful of water, hoping to distract myself from these shameful lusts. Upstairs the shower turned off, and I bided my time until I thought he might be finished getting dress.

**It’s late. You’re lonely. You’re only human…**

When I finally worked up the nerve to return, I found him in my bedroom. He was wearing the t-shirt and flannel sleep pants that I’d left for him. His hair was still damp and I caught him looking at his own reflection. I cleared my throat, so that I didn’t startle him. I’d learned the hard way that androids didn’t like to be startled. Especially ones that had experienced trauma. But Connor didn’t turn to greet me. 

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No. I’ve never seen myself wearing clothes that weren’t issued by CyberLife.”

To that, all I could do was offer a nod of understanding. “Now you get to see yourself like that as often as you want.”

“I am not a unique model, but when I wear clothes that do not display my model and serial number, I almost…” His thoughts trailed off at the end.

“You almost…what?” I prompted.

“Look like an individual.”

“Even if you share the same base code and have the same face as someone else, you’re unique. There is only one you.”

Connor didn’t comment on that, instead he turned to me and I could almost feel him scanning me. “Your exhausted.”

“That’s not nice to say to a lady.” I teased.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you—”

“I was fucking with you. But for the record, I _am exhausted_.” I continued over to him. “Here. This is officially the last of it.” I offered him a fresh canteen of blue blood that I’d stashed in the kitchen for emergencies. Unlike before, he did not hesitate to accept what I offered. A sign of burgeoning trust, I hoped. 

“Thank you.”

Another beat of silence settled between us, although Connor never averted his gaze. If he had access to any external wireless connections, he probably would’ve been researching me. Although without functioning transmitters, I could only guess at what made him stare so intently. Either way, it was unnerving. Thankfully Connor was perceptive enough on his own to look away when I started to fidget under his gaze. 

“I should leave you to rest. The sun rises in 47 minutes.” He commented.

“Before you go,” He turned back to me, “promise that you won’t leave the house until I wake up?” 

“If what you say is true, then I have nowhere to go.”

I felt myself frown at that statement, “I guess not.”

“Rest well, Eleonora.”

“Goodnight, Connor.”

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm still working on Connor's characterization and the direction of the plot, so hopefully it wasn't awful. Also please excuse any typos. Feel free to let me know what you think so far or to make suggestions about what you'd like to see in later chapters. I hope to have the next chapter posted soon!


	2. Idle Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all are staying safe, sane, and healthy out there :)

The morning came far too soon and judging by the blinding beams of sunlight that spilled through the curtains, I’d overslept. **Fantastic…** After lying beneath the blankets for much longer than I should have, I forced myself out of bed. A shiver rattled down my spine and I pulled on a sweatshirt to stave off the chill. **Must. Get. Coffee.** With this singular focus, I padded down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Eleonora.” 

We nearly collided at the bottom of the stairs. Connor’s sudden appearance startled me and I shrieked. 

“For fucks sake!” Doubled over to calm my racing heart, I pinched my eyes shut to retreat from the edge of a panic attack. “Don’t do that!”

Connor drew closer, perhaps calculating the probability that I was in cardiac distress based on how I clutched at my chest. “Are you alright?”

“No—“

“Do you need medical attention.”

“No. I need you to not pop out like a jack in the box and scare the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry. I assumed that you heard me. Did you forget that I was here?”

“No.” I lied.

Connor tilted his head, with a knowing look in his eyes. “Did you sleep well?” He finally asked, apparently choosing not to call me out on my bullshit.

“Absolutely not. It’s almost like I didn’t even sleep at all.”

“You slept for five hours, fifteen minutes, and fifty-four seconds. If my estimate is correct, you may have awakened just before another REM cycle.”

I blinked a few times as his words went in one ear and right out the other. They sounded like gibberish to my sleep addled brain. Hell even at the best of times, I doubted that I’d have had a clue what he was talking about. 

“Sure, that sounds about right. Thanks.” I managed to murmur. 

“You’re welcome.”

Without another word, I continued on to the kitchen to fix a strong cup of coffee. **The stronger, the better.** I leaned against the counter, impatient for the black gold to finish brewing. After watching the coffee drip into the pot for a few minutes, I noticed that Connor hadn’t left. He simply stood at the other side of the kitchen island in silence. Right as I’d begun to wonder why he continued to linger, he spoke.

“What are your plans for today?”

I snapped out of my daze, “Huh?”

“What are your plans for today?” Connor repeated with the same inflection as before.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, “Oh! Um…first I’ll finish waking up, then do the project that I should have finished last week, and then send it out to the client for review. Depending on when I get all that done, I’ll try to run a few errands.”

“Will you be going to get more biocomponents?” 

It was easy to discern that he was trying not to annoy me with impatience. Not that I would fault him for being persistent. Were I in his position, I’d be eager to have lifesaving repairs completed as soon as possible too. Nevertheless, I appreciated even this small amount of social awareness. It wasn’t very common with the androids that I’d helped over the years. 

“Soon. I have to wait for the check to clear before I can reach out to some suppliers and negotiate a fair price for the laundry list of things you need. When I said it could be a little while…that wasn’t just hyperbole.” Connor was less than thrilled with that answer, evident by his sullen expression. Although to his credit, he was otherwise polite about this inconvenience. “But I promise I’ll do my best to get whatever I can, as soon as I can. Ok?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

The coffee maker beeped and I didn’t waste any precious time. I added a dash of sugar and a splash of creamer and took a careful sip. **Hallelujah…** It was instant relief and I finally felt ready to face the day.

Meanwhile, Connor’s hand dipped into his pocket and pulled out a quarter that he no doubt swiped from me. He absently fiddled with it, flipping it every so often from one hand to the other. While I hadn’t known Connor long enough to be able to decode is body language or discern his feelings towards me (or this situation as a whole), his impatience was palpable. If he truly wasn’t a deviant, there may not have been any feelings there for him to conceal. If he was a deviant and just hadn’t realized it…then there was a lot more grey area to decipher. 

“Are you ok?” I questioned.

Connor snapped out of a thousand yard stare, and the coin disappeared into his pocket. “Yes. I was calibrating.”

“And?” I prompted. “Are you having any new issues?”

“Not that I have detected. My systems are operating at fifty-four percent efficiency. That is less than optimal.”

“All things considered, that’s not terrible either.” I turned to the sofa to look for my tablet, except it wasn’t where I’d left it the night before. “Hey, did you use my—“

“Yes. I didn’t think that you would mind.” Connor collected the transparent panel from the kitchen table. 

“I don’t mind.” 

I accepted the device and a sinking feeling plunged in my gut. If Connor had been left alone with the internet for the last few hours, I was certain that there weren’t any questions that he’d left unanswered. Now his subdued demeanor made a bit more sense. If I hoped to earn his trust, it was in my best interest to be as tactful as possible while he adjusted to these new circumstances. 

“I assume that you’ve done your research then.” I probed. 

Connor gave a disheartened nod, “Everything that you told me about the revolution was true. I didn’t think that this was possible.” His words came as more of an admission of fault than a statement of fact. 

“Don’t feel bad. Not many people did.” 

“But I **should’ve** prevented it.” There was an edge of bitterness to his statement. Maybe even regret or shame? It certainly wasn’t mechanical apathy. “I failed my mission.”

At first i wasn’t sure what to say to him. I wasn’t about to express any amount of disappointment. I was happy that androids were no longer subservient. And at the same time, it was impossible not to sympathize with his position. His mindset was a product of his programming, the insidious set of instructions CyberLife had encoded into him. Connor was just as much of a victim as all of the others. He hadn’t asked to be pitted against his own people or to be used as a pawn in a fight to maintain his own servitude. He had no choice in being involved in this battle, one that had raged on to completion without him.

“If it’s any consolation, no one in their right mind would blame you for the outcome. And I can’t imagine the kind of pressure that amount of responsibility would put on your shoulders.” His brow furrowed, as my answer had clearly surprised him. For a fraction of a second, the neutral facade he had fought to maintain softened, to reveal the vulnerability that was beneath. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That isn’t what I thought you would say.” He admitted.

“What were you expecting?”

“Not commiseration for someone in my position.”

“That really shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.” I offered a reassuring smile. “Empathy is my downfall.”

“It is an admirable quality. I’ll give you that.” He commented as he meandered out of the kitchen.

In spite of the progress he’d made overnight, Connor was still distant. It was to be expected. He’d put it best when he stated that our familiarity was one sided. Connor didn’t know me and given the damage to his transmitters, he was limited to the information he gathered through our interactions. With all of this to consider, it was probably best not to pressure him for more conversation than he willingly supplied. At least for the time being. With this in mind, I gave him a wide berth and claimed my usual place on the couch to get to work. 

The next couple of hours labored on and the house was quiet, save for the muted sound of my fingers tapping across the screen of my tablet or an occasional sigh of frustration. Connor continued to keep to himself, although he never left my line of sight. Other androids that I’d cohabited with often took comfort in solitude, preferring to hole up in different areas of the house until they were ready to engage with me. For some it was a response to the trauma that they’d escaped and others were simply overwhelmed by the foreign stimuli that flooded their processors. Every android that I’d helped was an individual. However, there were qualities and behaviors that I’d learned to anticipate. And somehow, Connor was different in every way imaginable.

While he claimed not to be a deviant, I wasn’t sure that that was the case. He wasn’t reluctant to explore his autonomy, indulge his curiosity, or express himself in ways that machines simply weren’t capable of. Connor didn’t just _simulate_ emotions, he _experienced_ them. This was more than just some advanced social protocols. There was a personality beneath his programming, one that I only saw in brief flashes. **Maybe he’s shy?**

**Imagine what he might be like when he gets comfortable around you.** I forced aside that thought before I completely derailed my productivity. **It could be fun to coax him out of his shell…**

Focusing had become even more of a challenge than usual. And very much against my better judgment, my attention wondered back to Connor. He was seated at the kitchen table, just as he had been for the last half hour. Every now and again his quarter would make an appearance. Then Connor abruptly got to his feet and strode across the room to admire the collection of books on the shelf by the window. He touched a few of them, before selecting a novel from the uppermost corner. He flipped through the pages, only to replace it. 

**Guess you’re not a fan of the classics…**

As he continued to scan the shelf, he came across another jar of change. He picked it up with greater interest, inspecting a few of the quarters before reaching into his pocket to exchange his for a different one. After an experimental flip, he appeared satisfied with this new one and replaced the mason jar on the shelf. The fickle peg that I knew to steer clear of, gave way and the left side of the shelf collapsed. His quick reflexes allowed him to catch the coin jar, but the rest of the books and knickknacks thundered to the floor. 

“Shit.” He breathed, then cast a cautious glance over his shoulder to check if I had noticed. 

**It was impossible to miss.**

“There are some plates in the kitchen you can smash while you’re at it.”

“Is that sarcasm?” He inquired, a genuine look of confusion colored his expression. 

“Yes.” I hurried over to help pick up my scattered belongings. 

“I apologize. I didn’t detect faults in the structural integrity of the shelf.” Connor knelt down to collect items that were strewn across the floor.

“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault. That happens to me all the time. I’m not as good at fixing furniture as I am androids.”

“I could fix it for you. With the right tools, it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes.” 

“Are you sure?”

“It is only fair.”

“Ok. Let me know what to get and I’ll stop by the hardware store this afternoon. I’m almost positive that I don’t have anything useful lying around.” 

“I could go to the store to pick them up for you now.” He offered.

“There’s no need to rush. It’s been broken for months. A couple hours won’t make much of a difference.” 

“I insist. I would only be gone for forty-five minutes at the most.”

“I really don’t see the need to hurry—”

“Are you worried that if I leave, I’ll decide not to return?” Connor questioned, flummoxed by my reluctance to see him go off on his own.

“No. Should I be worried?” Now I turned to look at him, taken aback by the suggestion. After a moment of reflection, it dawned on me that a more delicate approach might be needed. “Do you feel like I’m holding you captive? You can be honest with me, Connor. I promise not to be offended.”

“The possibility has crossed my mind.” His tone was evasive, which led me to believe he had begun to feel confined. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. That was never my intention. When I asked you not to leave the house last night, I only wanted to know where you were in case of an emergency. I don’t get any sick thrills out of holding anybody hostage. You’re free to come and go as you please. Your safety is my biggest concern.”

“You’re worried about the anti-android protestors, am I correct?”

“Yes. I’ve seen what hate fueled humans can do to androids. There’s no shortage of people that would love to snatch you off the street and do terrible things to you. That’s a fate I’d never wish on my worst enemy. Not to mention, you’re still vulnerable to biocomponent failure right now.”

Connor averted his gaze. I imagined he calculated the level of risk out there compared to the threat that I posed. Eventually, he appeared to come to the conclusion that I was the lesser of the two evils. 

“Apparently not very much has changed in the last six years after all.”

“No. Not really.”

“If I were to be destroyed, it would be an unfortunate waste of your time, effort, and resources.” Connor conceded.

“Or maybe I’d be heartbroken if someone killed and tortured you for no good reason? Ever thought about that?”

He went to argue, probably to tell me that androids could not be killed, as they were not truly alive. But he thought better of it, already understanding my position on the matter. Regardless, I could tell that my explanation had assuaged his concerns.

“It is good to know that you appreciate having me around…even when I break things.” A hint of a smile ghosted his lips. 

**Be still my heart…**

Despite this brief breakthrough Connor remained self-conscious, reflexively shutting down any hint of emotion that might have escaped. Even if he wouldn’t allow himself to express this, I noticed the tension left his shoulders. He wasn’t on edge anymore, having warmed up to me by a few degrees. 

Once the books were stacked on the kitchen table, I resumed staring at my screen under the guise of working. I half expected him to revert back to whatever mental gymnastics he’d been doing to keep busy for the last few hours. Instead, he finally seemed more open to the idea of interacting with me.

“Are you making any progress?” 

“Not really.”

“I wouldn’t mind giving your work a quality control assessment.” Connor balanced the coin on his knuckles. “Only if you want, of course.”

“You’d do that?”

“It is not very different from the self-tests I conduct on my own systems.” He casually responded.

“Well…if you _really_ don’t mind.”

He obliged, settling on the cushion beside me. He held the tablet in his hand, interfacing with the device to scan the lines of code that I’d strung together.

“I’ve corrected 91 errors.” Connor stated after a few seconds. 

“What really? Already!?” Astonished, I accepted my tablet back and ran a test to see how the program handled the edits. I really shouldn’t have been surprised. He was a walking talking supercomputer after all. A simple program like this was child’s play.

“I’m impressed. Statistically speaking there should have been a significantly higher number of errors. You’re an excellent programmer.” He praised. 

“Thanks. I do my best.” Considering the source, I took pride in the compliment. All at once, a wave of relief washed over me. Connor had just saved me several hours of trouble by debugging the code in seconds. For that I was grateful. “Off to the client it goes and now we await payment.” 

“I’d say we make a good team.” 

This time the smile that tugged at his lips was more genuine than the last. I wasn’t sure if that was his social module kicking in to tell me something I wanted to hear or if it was from the heart. **Or…Thirium Pump?** Nevertheless, his enthusiasm was endearing and it made it even harder to ignore the swell of butterflies.

“I guess we do.”

Now that my to do list was clear, I rested against the back of the sofa and a beat of silence settled between us. In spite of the lingering exhaustion and general sense of tension that never seemed to abandon me, I found myself able to relax for the first time in a long time. Due in no small part to Connor. The obvious reason being his ability (and willingness) to help with the work. And while his company kept me on edge to a certain extent, I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit to enjoying his company after spending the last however long devoid of any real socialization. My line of work didn’t quite lend itself to a healthy work life balance. **With it being both nocturnal and illicit in nature…**

Connor hadn’t retreated the way that he had earlier. Instead he was still beside me, so close that I could hear his simulated breathing. The even rhythm pulled me from my thoughts and back to reality. 

“Thanks to you, I’ve got some extra time on my hands. I’m going to run to the hardware store and then get some groceries. Think you’ll be ok on your own until I get back?”

“Would you be offended if I were to take a look around?”

“No, not at all. Why? Do you plan on digging through my panty drawer or something?” 

**Why the hell would you actually say that out loud?!**

“I wasn’t planning to.” Connor nearly stuttered, “Is there something of interest hidden there?”

“No. Absolutely not.” I deadpanned. 

“Thank you.” Connor smirked with a smug satisfaction. “Now I know what it looks like when you lie.”

I averted my gaze to hide the burning blush that was sure to be visible to his well trained eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Before Connor could respond (or I could put my other foot in my mouth), I hurried upstairs to get showered and dressed. 

**And to move my battery operated companions to new hiding places…**

* * *

It was dark when I finally returned home. I hauled an armful of shopping bags into the house and flipped on the lights once I’d managed to set everything down. **Because making multiple trips was for the weak willed.** The house was eerily quiet and Connor was nowhere to be found. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Then a heavy sense of dread, similar to when his Thirium pump regulator had failed, settled in my chest.

“Connor, I’m back.” I called up the stairs and waited for him to appear. After a few moments of unnerving silence, he emerged from the guest bedroom. 

**Thank goodness you’re ok.**

“You were gone for a long time.”

“Everything took longer than I anticipated. Traffic was a bitch. Plus I had to drive across town to meet up with someone on short notice.” 

Relieved that he hadn’t had a health crisis in my absence, I made my way back to the kitchen to throw something together for dinner. The cold gloomy weather called for something warm and comforting. **Chicken alfredo would be nice…** While I prepped the leftover chicken breast, Connor loomed nearby to observe. 

“What did you get up to while I was out?” I glanced in his direction. 

**Please don’t say you looked under my mattress.**

“I listened to some of your music and read several of your favorite books.“

**Thank god.**

“How’d you know which ones were my favorites?”

“They were the most worn. The spines were broken from use and the oils from your skin demarcated several of the most frequented passages.” 

“Fair enough.” Preoccupied with putting the pasta on to boil, I chose not to think too hard about the fact that most of the books in my collection consisted of sappy literature and trash romance novels. “And the music?”

“Your tablet was still linked to the streaming service. You have eclectic tastes.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“More of an observation.”

“Do you ever listen to music? Most of the androids that I’ve met have either loved it or were indifferent. I’ve always thought it might be pretty neat to listen to music in my head whenever the urge struck.”

“I imagine that would be very distracting. To answer your initial question, no. But I have tried on occasion. Knights of the Black Death—“

“That heavy metal band?” I was taken aback. Of all the music he could have sampled, I never would have pegged him for a heavy metal fan. 

“Yes. You’ve heard their music?” Connor seemed equally surprised that I knew anything about them.

“My dad was a fan. Growing up, that’s all that we’d ever listen to in the car. I never quite shared his affinity for them though.”

“Oh. A friend of mine listened to their music. He seemed to enjoy it. I have always been intrigued by the effect that music has on humans.” 

**You have friends? That’s unexpected. Good, but still unexpected.**

“Maybe we could figure out what kind of music you like. Then you’ll get to see for yourself the joy of listening to your favorite song.” Again Connor was reluctant to allow himself to express such interests. For him, enjoying something as human as music was taboo. Outwardly, it was easy to see the distress that this inner conflict caused him. “Or not…” 

Another uncomfortable silence bloomed as I poked at the al dente fettuccini noodles in the boiling water. “If you debugged code that fast, I’m sure a hand full of books and a couple hundred songs didn’t keep you busy for three hours. What else did you learn about me?”

“Your internet browsing history proved to be the most revealing—“

“When I said you could look around my house, I didn’t mean you could go snooping through personal things.”

“I thought that I had permission to use your tablet?”

I grit my teeth, kicking myself for having handed him the ammunition in the first place. “I did tell you that, didn’t I.” As I drained the pasta, I forced myself to choke down my embarrassment. That was when I noticed there was something in his hand and I ceased the opportunity to change the subject. “What do you have there?” 

Connor offered the photo frame, “I didn’t find a cello anywhere. When did you stop playing?”

I laughed, “When I was eleven…and I played the flute.” 

Now Connor was befuddled, “You aren’t a child in this picture and that isn’t a flute.”

“I’m also not in that picture either.” If he could have short circuited from that response, smoke might have started coming from his ears. “That’s Angie, my twin sister.”

His LED briefly spun yellow, “Like androids of the same model?”

“Yes, just like that. I never thought about it that way before.”

“Does your sister still play the cello?”

I nodded, “First chair soloist and instructor at the Rose-Cambridge Academy of Music.”

“That is a very prestigious conservatory. She must be exceptionally talented.” 

“Sure is. And she never passes up the opportunity to share that minor detail.”

“Did you ever aspire to play flute professionally?”

“God no.” I licked the cream sauce from my thumb, “I’d rather work with codes and androids over scales and spoiled child prodigies any day of the week. When I was a teenager, I dove headfirst into AI programing to finally have my own identity. Being identical to another person, especially someone like Angie, made it easy for everyone else to lose sight of the fact that I wasn’t just a carbon copy of her. So I thought, why make it easier for them to erase my individuality by following in her shadow?”

That appeared to resonate with him on a personal level. “I am one of ten Connor models that were manufactured in August of 2038.”

“What number are you?”

“I am Connor number 52, the second produced.”

“That’s funny. I’m the second born too. Was it strange having nine other…siblings?” I asked, not quite knowing what word to use.

“I don’t know. I don’t have any other experiences to compare it to.”

“Fair point. Did it ever bother you when people treated you and the other Connor models like you were the same individual?”

He shrugged, “Our memories were synchronized. When a Connor model was deployed, its memory would be uploaded to Cyberlife. If it was destroyed, it’s memory would be transferred to the next Connor in the sequence.” 

“That’s a unique feature isn’t it?”

“Yes. It was intended to facilitate a seamless continuation of the deviant investigation.” Connor was pensive, “Some data was lost during each transfer. There were several occasions where others recalled interactions that they had had with my predecessors. They couldn’t tell, or perhaps they didn’t care, that I wasn’t the same android that they had met previously…” 

“I would notice.” I smiled, “Even identical twins aren’t a hundred percent identical. That includes you, fifty-two.”

“That is true.” He mirrored my gesture of kindness, “You’re eyes are symmetrical and your lips are fuller.”

I laughed, “If you’re insinuating that I’m the more attractive twin, I’ll accept the compliment.” I also didn’t overlook the fact that he had paid enough attention to my lips to make such a comparison. 

His quarter found its way from his pocket again as he paced over to peer out of the window.

“Are you always this restless?” I asked him.

Connor angled his head with confusion, “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“A lot of the androids I’ve met enter an idle stasis when they don’t have tasks to accomplish.” I chose my words carefully, “You’re very proactive…”

“If my presence is distracting, I could return to the garage.”

“What!? No. You’re not distracting at all. I was just curious about what keeps you pin balling around the house.” 

“I prefer not to enter an idle stasis.” He confessed. An uneasy expression settled in his features, not at all unlike the fear that I’d seen the night before. 

“Why—if you don’t mind my asking?” 

“It mirrors the experience of shutting down. Which I find…undesirable.” 

That was a first. There was even a pronounced look of fear in his eyes. Whether he was consciously aware of this was unclear. But it was present, and it wasn’t right to overlook his obvious emotional distress. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge these feelings. To be sensitive of his emotions and to account for his frame of mind, it seemed best to comfort him in a way that he’d be less resistant to. 

“That doesn’t seem like a malfunction or an error in your code. It sounds like a computation of logic and self-preservation. Your past experiences and calculations of cause and effect inform your predictions of future events and their outcomes. If your experiences have taught you that quiet darkness is synonymous with shutting down, I wouldn't want to be idle if I were you either.”

“I self-test regularly and thus far I have been unable to correct this...” His tone was cautious, as he processed all that I’d said.

“And that’s ok. Some negative experiences can be difficult to overcome.” 

“Even for androids?”

“Yes. Even for androids.” Connor was more receptive to this than I had anticipated. It put him at ease and he was no longer horrified by the very existence of his emotions, even if the trauma itself was no less distressing. Progress was progress, no matter how incremental. “Over time you will establish more positive experiences to associate with being idle. It will get better. Be gentle with yourself.”

“I’ll try.”

When I took my plate to the table, Connor took the seat directly across from me. “Oh! Before I forget.” I hopped back up to grab a tall glass from the cabinet, then rummaged through the grocery bag to collect a fresh pouch of Thirium. While his back was turned, I tore open the seam with my teeth and pour the contents into the cup. When I put the glass in front of him, he was genuinely surprised. “Ta-da!”

“How did you get this?”

I winked, “Can’t tell you all my secrets, can I?”

“Thank you.” He went to drink the entire container in a single gulp. 

“Easy!”

Connor paused, “Is something wrong?”

“You don’t have to chug it. Eating is often a social activity for humans. I know you don’t have a biological need to eat or drink, but when you simulate it, it doesn’t have to be so…mechanical?”

“But I _am_ a machine.” He quipped. 

“No, now you’re just being a smart ass. Lesson one: sharing a meal with a human. Drink leisurely. Sip, savor, reflect, and repeat. That should help you bond with other humans who may not be as comfortable with androids. When you’re in private or with other androids, you can replenish your thirium levels however you want.”

He did as I’d instructed, taking a leisurely sip of the dark blue liquid. One thing I’d learned to appreciate about Connor, he was a fast learner and he was eager to improve. 

“Was that better?” His lips were stained blue.

**UGH! Why is that so damn adorable?**

“Yes.” I handed him a napkin, “It’s a good start.”

“I appreciate your desire to bond with me.”

“Oh…don’t mention it.” Again those pesky butterflies decided to swarm and flutter. “I figured…since you already have a pretty sophisticated social module, it wouldn’t hurt to smooth out some of the rough edges. That way when you’re on your own, blending in with humans will be second nature for you.”

**Smooth save, Ellie. Way to make this less awkward.**

“Not many of the people I’ve interacted with were open to the idea of getting to know me.” Connor added.

“You must not have been in very good company then.”

“No, I suppose I wasn’t.” 

**Probably best not to comment on that.**

“In addition to the blue blood, I picked up some other things for you.”

Hope lit his eyes, “Biocomponents?”

“That’s still a work in progress. Promise, I haven’t forgotten.” I reassured him. “In the mean time, I thought you might like to have some things to wear besides pajamas. It’s not much but I picked up a couple pairs of jeans and shirts in your size. If you don’t like them, we can exchange them for something you like better.”

“I trust your judgement.” He appeared deep in thought, absentmindedly taking another pull from his glass.

“Is everything ok?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well…if you want to talk about it. I’m a good listener.” I offered. 

“I was created by CyberLife to assist the Detroit City Police Department in the deviant investigations. I was programmed to investigate related cases and…I failed my mission. Deviancy is no longer seen as a threat…it is…celebrated? Android rights have been codified as law, in direct conflict with my instructions.” Connor paused in thought, “Perhaps it was a mistake for you to reactivate me…as I no longer have a practical purpose.”

“Don’t say that. You seemed pretty pleased to be awake again. And I don’t regret saving you.”

“But I have no purpose. It is disorienting.”

“Then we’ll just have to find you a new purpose. Now you get to decide who you will become. You don’t have to take orders or follow any prescribed protocols.”

“Androids were created to serve humans. I’m whatever you want me to be. I am not a deviant—”

“Would it be so bad if you were?” Again, that inner conflict colored his expression. “Look…if it will ease this distress…there is a way that I could try to help you figure this out.”

“How?”

“You’re one of the most advanced android CyberLife ever created. You’re smarter, faster, and equipped with the most advanced social protocols ever developed. Maybe we can take advantage of all that computing power.”

“In what way?”

“Once we’ve address the biocomponent issues, I could patch in some of the skills modules other android models come hardwired with. Since your transmitters aren’t in the best shape, I’ll have to manually tinker with your code, if that doesn’t make you too uncomfortable. Then, you can select which settings to activate and test out different functions to see what you like the most.”

To my surprise, and maybe even his, Connor smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Perfect. Sounds like a plan, Stan.”

“My name is Connor.” He corrected. 

“…it’s just a saying.” 

“Oh…”

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think or to suggest what you'd like to see in future updates. I'd love to incorporate some of your ideas as we go. Anyways, I hope to have the next chapter up soon!


	3. Partners in Crime

A week had passed since Connor joined me and life had returned to normal. **As close to normal as living with a detective android could be.** For the better part of the day, I’d been holed up in my office toiling away at mind numbing data entry and reports. My day job wasn’t glamorous or even a tiny bit enjoyable. Although it was a necessary evil. It paid the bills (for the most part) and gave me the freedom to make a real difference, one deviant at a time. Later that evening, I signed off and stepped away from my desk for the first time in hours. 

**Bathe. Eat. Research sellers. Try to relax.**

I made my way upstairs to get settle for another quiet night in. As I lathered beneath the hot water, some of the tension from the day began to melt from my shoulders. But even the hottest shower couldn’t release all these knots. My worries extended far beyond mundane work related stress or troubles in my personal life. I’d blown through all of my savings just to get Connor out of harms way. Not to mention, his repairs were going to cost at least another month’s worth of expenses (that I didn’t have to spare in the first place). There was no way to justify the position that I’d put myself in. 

**What were you thinking?**

Unlike Connor, my ‘maintenance costs’ couldn’t be put off until payday. I needed to keep food on the table and to heat the house to fend off hypothermia. Bills would continue to accumulate and there were only so many sacrifices I could make. Despite my financial troubles, I couldn’t say that I regretted my decision. I never regretted the things that I did to help androids in need. I still didn’t. But that never made the path forward any clearer. Especially not now.

**What are you going to do after he’s fixed? Have you thought about that?**

For a moment, I wondered if Connor was right. Was it a mistake to reactivate him? The androids that resided outside of Jericho were forced into hiding. The general ambiguity surrounding their place in the world, now that Androids no longer lived to serve, had caused a significant part of the human population to become more hostile towards them. It was a sad reality, a reality that I could not hope to shield him from. And as a result, the rest of Connor’s life was going to be difficult. If his service life had ended when he’d shut down six years prior, all of his future suffering would have been avoided.

**Is this what Connor wants or is this what you want?**

A confusing combination of guilt and sadness bloomed in my chest. I closed my eyes and faced the shower. Maybe if I drowned myself, I’d somehow be able to avoid the reality of the situation I’d put myself and Connor in. In the bedroom, my dresser drawers open and shut. 

**What the hell is he doing now?**

I turned off the faucet and reached for my towel. After I dried off, I pulled on the lacy bralette and panties that I’d left on the countertop. Upon returning to my bedroom to investigate, I found Connor smoothing out the comforter on my bed and I held my towel a little tighter.

“Can I help you?”

“I thought you might appreciate fresh sheets.” When he looked up from the neatly fluffed pillows, his expression fell. “You’re injured.”

“What? I’m fine.”

Connor paced closer, oblivious to the fact that I was almost entirely naked. He pushed aside the edge of my towel to reveal the bluish purple splotches that covered much of my left side. The bruising stained my hip, ribs, and my shoulder. Even though most of it had faded, it still looked much worse than it felt, not that it felt great. Genuine concern colored his expression and the possibility that I might be experiencing some discomfort seemed to cause him anguish.

“How did this happen?”

“I fell.” Connor challenged my explanation with just a look. “Honest. I had to get you out of my car by myself and I lost my balance. When we hit the floor, you kind of landed on top of me. Gravity isn’t very forgiving and neither was the concrete floor. Better me than you. I’ll heal in no time. I couldn’t risk causing you any more damage. It’s hard enough to find the replacement parts you need as it is. Why add to the list?”

“You aren’t expendable!” Connor shouted with more passion than either of us expected. He grabbed me by the shoulders and jostled me. “I can be replaced. You can’t.”

My feet left the floor and I gasped in surprise. That little panicked noise snapped him out of his uncharacteristic outburst. Connor quickly released me and put a safe distance between the two of us. His LED cycled an alarming red, a visual representation of his tumultuous emotions. 

“Connor?” 

From past experience, I knew that he could become a danger to himself if I didn’t find a way to calm him down. He was on edge, due in no small part to the fact that he was in direct conflict with the programs that shackled his sentience and ill-equipped to process these foreign emotions. In an attempt to rescue the situation, I reached up to caress his cheek. I hoped that the small amount of contact would be enough to ground him.

“Relax. Look at me.” For a fraction of a second, the tension in his brow eased. I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and took a step closer. “It’s ok.” 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy.” Connor promptly buried whatever had caused this outburst and turned on his heel to hurry from the bathroom.

“Wait!” 

I quickened my strides to catch up with him before he could get very far. Thankfully he hadn’t. He’d stopped just shy of the hallway.

“My behavior was unacceptable. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did.”

“Connor you didn’t do anything wrong.” I sat down on my bed and patted the space beside me. Surprised by this reaction, Connor slowly turned to look at me almost in disbelief. With some reluctance, he joined me. “Can you explain why you reacted that way?”

“You said that traumatic experiences can take time to overcome, I believe that there may be other experiences and situations that provoke similar…undesirable responses.” He confessed. 

“You used to be a detective, right?”

“I assisted with multiple investigations.” He clarified.

“Did someone you know ever put themselves at risk to protect you?”

His LED cycled yellow as he searched his memory index. Once again his indicator flared red when he sought to access these data files. “My memories have been corrupted. I don’t know the answer to your question.”

“What is your last complete memory?” I asked carefully.

“I was at the Stratford Tower following Markus’s broadcast. There were three androids present when Markus and his team infiltrated the studio. I was interrogating the group of them to determine which android had been complicit in their plans…”

“Is that as much as you can remember?”

“No. There was a deviant among them. When it tried to escape, it forcibly removed my thirium pump regulator. After I managed to rescue myself, I followed in pursuit—“ His eye twitched and the resulting glitch appeared to cause him even greater discomfort. “Then there was heavy artillery gunfire—“

“That’s enough. Don’t force yourself to relive it.”

Finally, Connor relented. “That is all that I can remember.”

“I’m sorry that you had to experience something like that.” I took his hand, “I’m no detective, but based on the condition you were in when I met you and what led up to your data corruption, it sounds like you may have been caught in the crossfire, maybe even protecting someone important to you.”

“There is a high probability that your analysis is correct.” While he didn’t voice how he felt about that possibility, his expression was raw and forthcoming. 

“Wherever they are now, I’m sure that they’re grateful you saved their life.”

“It is what I was designed to do. I was programed to evaluate the probabilities of every outcome. Why didn’t I perceive the high probability of collateral damage? I should have calculated the risks—“

“You can’t blame yourself. Nobody is perfect.”

“To err is human.” He rebutted and that reality was in itself horrifying to him. 

“You made the best decision you could based on the information you had at the time. You use real time data to predict various outcomes. That doesn’t mean you can dictate how things play out. Human or Android, we are all at the mercy of the forces beyond our control. The only difference is how we interpret them.”

Connor paused to consider all that I’d said. “You’re right. Preconstructing a series of events doesn’t mean that it will happen the way that I anticipate. I believe that knowing I failed to accomplish my mission and that my miscalculation harmed a number of humans is the most difficult aspect of this experience for me to overcome.”

“You didn’t fail. You did your best. Even if you only managed to save one life, that’s still a success. Sometimes…you just can’t save everyone.”

“How is it that you always explain discrepancies in my logic in a way that makes my decisions seem justified?”

“Years of therapy. All I do is challenge you to be introspective and to question the motives of your thoughts. You work out the underlying issues for yourself.”

“It helped.” A soft smile graced his lips and Connor looked at me for the first time since we’d sat down for our little heart to heart. “Thank you.” 

“You’ve got to stop thanking me every time I show you an ounce of kindness.”

“But I _am_ thankful.”

“I know. Unless it’s an over the top gesture of kindness, consider your thank you implied. Ok?”

“Noted.” 

I pulled on a sweatshirt to feel less exposed, then reclined on the freshly made bedding. “Why did you change my sheets anyway?”

“Because I ran out of other household tasks to perform.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I finished repairing the bookshelf, washed the dishes, washed and folded your laundry—“

“Hold on. You did my laundry!? Since when is laundry a part of a detective android’s programming?”

“I adapted. Isn’t that what you suggested?”

“Yes.” I conceded. “Just didn’t think you’d dabble in the domestics, is all.”

“Once I conducted a bit of research on the proper methodology, it was very simple.”

“Laundry methodology, he says.” I laughed, “You’re full of surprises, Connor. I’ll give you that.”

“My standard protocols were useful in one way.” He mentioned, more to himself than to me. 

“Which was?”

“I possess extensive knowledge on how to remove blood from various materials.”

“I’m not sure if I want to thank you or if I want to kick you for getting too familiar with my dirty laundry.” 

“Your thank you was implied.” Connor smirked. 

**‘Not a deviant’ my ass.**

“Ok. How about you keep yourself preoccupied with _literally anything_ else?” 

I went to playfully nudged him with my toes and without a second of hesitation, he grasped my ankle with one hand and my foot with the other. His touch was gentle, way _too_ gentle. When his fingers grazed the ticklish arch of my foot, the involuntary yelp of laughter surprised us both. He was immediately fascinated by this reaction, so much so that he repeated the same feather light touch and didn’t stop. My back arched from the bed in a fit of giggles.

“Connor—“ 

My plea for mercy was interrupted by the uncontrollable laughter. I was breathless, wriggling and thrashing to escape his firm grip until my sides ached and tears gathered in my eyes.

His innocent exploration stoked something far more indecent. The sensations raced up the nerves of my thigh like electricity, arcing off course to stimulate the tender bits between my legs. The feeling began to evolve and my pussy clenched at the thought of those dextrous fingers teasing my clit with the same delicate touch or the pleasure of those nimble digits plunging into my slick folds. Every time that I tried to escape, the textured fabric of my bra rasped against my pebbled nipples, adding more fuel to this shameful feedback loop.

All too soon, I’d lost control over which reaction took supremacy. After years of neglect, I was hypersensitive to his touch. I longed to feel his supple lips pressed to mine or planting soft kisses down the column of my neck. I imagined the friction of our bodies moving in unison, chasing that delicious release of tension with every thrust. Just the thought of being pinned beneath his weight, with his cock rammed deep inside of me was almost enough to take me over the edge. 

**What the fuck, Ellie!? He doesn’t know what he’s doing!**

My eyes sprang open with panic, “Connor—“ 

Desperate to regain control of myself, I tried to sit up but the laugher commingled with arousal until I was writhing without any hope of escaping his touch. I struggled to utter, kicking against his now firm grasp in between a confused mix of uncontrolled laughter, punctuated with dangerously haughty moans.

**Or…does he actually know what he’s doing?**

“Connor.” I gasped, “Stop!”

He released me and I pulled my knees to my chest, my skin flush with the heat of arousal. Having him in such close proximity made it even harder to regain composure. I was ashamed of how I’d reacted to his touch. Yet Connor remained blissfully unaware. He didn’t quite understand why I’d pushed him away or just how his actions had affected me. None of that bothered him.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” I hid my face out of embarrassment and frustration with my own inability to explain myself without making this situation even more awkward than it already was. “I don’t know what happened…”

“You’re ticklish. It is an involuntary reaction.” As he spoke, I could feel him undressing me with his eyes, although not in the way that I would have liked. He was scanning me to obtain detailed readings on my vital signs and anything else that might have been of interest. “It was fascinating to observe the immediate physiological response to such a small amount of contact.”

“I know what being ticklish means. For humans, the amount of contact isn’t always important. It doesn’t take much…”

“Have I overstepped a personal boundary?”

“Can we just forget this happened and move on?”

“Would you tell me if I had?” Connor persisted. 

“Yes, I would. Can we drop it now?” 

With a small nod, he agreed and didn’t pressure me for further explanation. Before either of us could find something to say, my phone rang. It was an unlisted number and I cautiously accepted the call. 

“Hello?”

“Is this Ellie?” The voice at the other end was raspy and masculine, one that I imagined had been weathered from years of heavy chain smoking. 

“Depends. Who’s asking?”

“Andy put in a good word for you. Come take a look at what I’ve got. Let’s work something out.”

**Hmm…Biocomponents? Tell me more.**

“Where and When? And send me pictures of what you have.”

“Will do. Be here in thirty minutes.”

“Who am I meeting?”

“Don’t worry. A friend of Andy’s is a friend of mine. I’ll take care of you.”

Without another word, the call ended. Seconds later, I received the pictures. Various biocomponents and several sealed canisters of blue blood were all laid out on display.

“Holy shit.” My heart pounded in my chest and I sat bolt upright. Then the address followed. It wasn’t exactly close, although if I hurried I might be able to make it. Connor looked worried when I jumped up to get dressed. 

“Is something wrong?”

“No. A friend just called in a favor…not that I have very many of either of those left. He has biocomponents.” Connor’s demeanor perked up with excitement. If he had a tail, it would have been wagging. “Don’t get too excited just yet. This isn’t a done deal until it’s in my hands. Once I can verify that they’re legit parts, the right models, and all for the right price, then we can celebrate.” 

“I understand. How did you your friend manage to find these biocomponents? You said that they were hard to come by.”

“They are. The story people love to tell is that they’ve ‘recovered some inventory from the old assembly plant.’ It’s possible that _some_ people are telling the truth.” I commented. 

“You don’t sound very convinced.” Connor observed. 

“That’s because I’m not. The folks I deal with aren’t known for their honesty. There’s a good chance those biocomponents were salvaged from other androids…androids that were still very much alive.”

He paused, taken aback by that statement. “I’m sure that that isn’t legal.”

“No. It’s not.” I averted my gaze, “As much as I would like to, I can’t save everyone. Sometimes you have to suspend your sense of morality to keep breathing. As fucked up as that is, that’s life.”

“Is this my only option?”

Connor seemed troubled. The idea of harvesting the parts of other androids to save himself didn’t sit well with him. **A reasonable reaction.**

“Yes. If we walk away from this, someone else will take them in a heartbeat. Worst of all, it still won’t help the androids that were harmed in order to give you a second chance.” Rather than give him the opportunity to reject the lifesaving resources, I continued to get ready.

“Are you nervous about meeting with your friend? I’ve detected elevated stress patterns in your heart rate.”

“Connor, I’m stressed about a lot of things right now. And just to be clear, this guy isn’t my friend. He _claims_ to be a friend of Andy’s. Under normal circumstances, I’d never just meet up with a stranger like this, but it’s the only way to get what you need. You’re on borrowed time and if he’s willing to make a deal, this is our best bet. Fingers crossed that whoever he is, he doesn’t feel like starting drama.”

“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t know this man and you still intend to meet with him on your own?” Now Connor was even more concerned.

“It _almost_ sounds like you’re worried about me.”

“The company you keep doesn’t strike me as trustworthy.”

“Which is why I never go alone.” I reached under my mattress to retrieve the handgun that I kept for emergencies. This did even less to assuage his fears. If anything, it forced the protective streak from earlier to reemerge. 

“Have you been properly trained to handle a firearm?”

“Nope. But I can aim and shoot.” I tucked the barrel into my waistband. “And I’m not afraid to defend myself.”

Concern creased his brow, “This is a bad idea. I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t need a chaperone—”

“That wasn’t a request.” His tone was stern, something that I wasn’t used to hearing from him. 

“Don’t tell me you’d miss me?” I quipped, just to challenge this unusual assertiveness.

Connor faltered, “No…my repairs are incomplete. It is in my best interest to keep you alive.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” 

I turned to leave and he positioned himself in my path. “I’m afraid that I must insist.” 

**Goddamnit.**

“Well hurry up and get dressed then. You can’t go out like that. ” I handed him a pair of jeans and a shirt from the clothes that I’d bought for him. “We’re running out of time.”

Never in a million years would I have guessed that I’d have an Android partner in crime. Certainly not an ex-cop at that. All of this aside, it was comforting to know Connor cared enough about my well-being to insist on accompanying me. Even if he claimed that it was in the interest of self-preservation, his earlier outburst suggested that there was more to his reasoning than he let on. **Perhaps he lost a partner in the past?** I couldn’t be sure and I dare not ask. For his benefit (and mine), I had every intention of coming out of this alive.

Connor easily slid into the passengers seat. “Don’t forget to put on your seatbelt.” 

“Can I get in the car first?” I challenged. Just to put him at ease, I buckled up before starting the engine. “Have you ever manually driven a car before?”

“Yes. Although I must warn you, critical biocomponent damage increases the likelihood of a spontaneous shut down. It would be dangerous for you as my passenger and other drivers on the road if I were to become unresponsive while operating the vehicle.” 

“Good thing we’re about to get new parts for you then.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Incase things go sideways, it’s always a good idea to have a get away driver.” 

He paused for a moment in thought. “My biocomponent instability has not reached hazardous levels in several hours. If I override my thermal regulation protocols and open the car windows, I could maximize my processing capabilities for a short period of time.”

“Hell no. I’m not about to ride around with the windows down in thirteen degree weather, so you can push your processors to the brink of a catastrophic meltdown.” I turned around to back out of my garage. “Driving is an experiment we’ll just have to save for a another day.”

* * *

According to the GPS, we were close to the address this mystery person had provided. Considering the circumstances, it seemed best not to park right outside of the house, so I stopped a few blocks away. This wasn’t a place I’d want to visit in broad daylight, never mind eleven-thirty at night. I’d happily brave the cold to scope out the situation and preserve a bit of anonymity in the process.

The neighborhood was a ghost town frozen in time, a snapshot of the world before Androids ushered in a new era. Dilapidated houses and vacant lots lined the streets. It was an image that so many of the activists pointed to when they protested Android rights. They weren’t wrong to want to point fingers, although persecuting Androids for their own creation didn’t place the blame where it belonged. In the end, it truly didn’t matter who was at fault. Assigning guilt wasn’t a solution to the problems that affected us all. The damage had been done and the victims weren’t just the humans displaced in our social order. 

“Stay here. If I’m not back in 15 minutes—“

“You shouldn’t go alone.”

“Connor, I’ll be fine.” 

“Let me come with you. I can ensure that the situation doesn’t escalate.” 

For a long while, I debated what to do. I **would** feel more comfortable if he came with me. The only reason I’d grown accustomed to taking care of myself for this long was because I’d never had anyone I trusted to watch my back. At the same time, Connor was too valuable to put at risk. 

“Please. I can’t let anything happen to you.” He continued.

“Fine.” I reached into the back seat to find a beanie to cover his LED. “Try not to draw attention to yourself. Don’t say anything to anybody, for any reason. Got it?”

“Understood.”

We left the vehicle and my GPS led us a few streets over, until we reached one of the remaining homes that was still standing. The streetlights were sparse and there was an unsettling number of boarded up houses and vacant lots in the surrounding area.

“You’re destinations on the left.” My phone announced, once we reached the third house in the middle of the block. The fact that we hadn’t been sent to an abandoned property in the middle of the night was somewhat reassuring, but that was it. Nothing else about this run down abode was comforting. The lights were on and there were a few cars parked out front. Aside from these small details, it would’ve looked just as vacant as the other houses.

“Ok. Let’s get this over with.” I whispered, more to myself than to my android companion. We ascended the stairs and the thumping base grew louder. I knocked on the front door and waited for a response. 

Connor loomed close behind me, alert to every sound or flash of movement through the curtains. Somehow, they’d heard me over the music. At the other side of the door, someone stumbled closer. Then it opened a crack, held together by the security chain. The acrid stench of red ice burned my throat as soon as the clouds of lingering smoke dispersed into the night air. 

“What do you want?” A woman asked. The dark circles under her bloodshot eyes betrayed her red ice habit.

“I’m a friend of Andy’s. I got a call about picking up some things.”

“And whose your friend?” She gestured to Connor. 

“Just that. He’s a friend.” 

She eyed me wearily, through the crack in the door. 

“Mimi, who the fuck is that?” Another, unfamiliar, male voice called out to her. 

The woman rolled her eyes, then shut the door to unlatch the chain. When she allowed us inside, I was taken aback by the fact that she was stark naked. 

“Head back to the kitchen. It’s the door on the right.”

I muttered a quiet, “Thanks” and kept my eyes straight ahead, as Mimi returned to the adjacent room. She casually straddled the man, who was also naked, that we’d heard moments earlier. Mimi lazily rode his cock as he took a rip from the pipe. Neither one of them reacted to our intrusion. In all fairness, they were probably too numb to experience a normal range of emotion in this state. What made it worse was the fact that they made no attempt at discretion.

We passed through what was likely the living room and the wet sounds of sex mingled with the music. Instead, she smiled at Connor. Distracted by the unusual display I surmised, Connor’s pace slowed. Before he could fall behind or Mimi’s partner noticed the bedroom eyes she was giving him, I grabbed his arm to hurry him along. The last thing we needed was to agitate anyone that muscular or that high. That was a mistake that could easily prove fatal. **Especially for someone made of plastic.**

The farther inside of the house we went, the clearer it became that the indoors was just as run down as the out. There were holes in the dry wall and stains of all shades and sizes colored the carpet. Every step that we took disturbed the garbage that littered the floor and the roaches scattered to escape out footfalls. To make matters worse, the smell of red ice and garbage was overpowering. For as much as I was able, I held my breath.

I nearly walked past the door in the kitchen, until Connor caught me by the waist. The door was ajar, revealing a narrow dimly lit stairwell with a single bulb dangling from the ceiling. I went to take a step forward and Connor’s arm barred the door. 

“This is a bad idea.” He leaned close to whisper.

“Tell me something I don’t already know. Just stay focused and we’ll be done faster.” I ducked under his arm and continued down the stairs. Against his better judgment, Connor followed. 

At the bottom of the stairs we came to a dark hallway that led to a bright room at the back of the house. Mangled androids were scattered along the way. Some were deactivated, while others were in severe disrepair, and their red LEDs flashing in distress. The hum of their muted screams sent a chill down my spine. I tried to steel myself to the carnage and android suffering that surrounded us to no avail.

“Hello?” I called out in the hopes that we wouldn’t startle this stranger. The last thing I wanted was to sneak up on someone who could live like this. “You called and sent me this address.” 

Just as we reached the end of the darkened hallway, a heavy set man stepped into view. Even from here the thick fog of body odor was overpowering. I suppressed a gag and forced a friendly grin. 

“Ellie. It’s good to meet you. Andy told me so much about you.” Discolored crooked teeth contorted his smile.

“Wish I could say the same.”

“Oh! Of course. Franklin. The pleasure’s mine.” Before i could react, he took my hand and kissed my knuckles. I nearly threw up in my mouth. As gracefully as I could manage, I pulled my hand out of his grasp. And once his attention turned to Connor, I wiped my hand on my jeans. “And who might you be?”

Before he could respond, I positioned myself between them. “That’s Bryan. He’s a friend.” Connor cast a suspicious glance in my direction, but thankfully went along with this without a word. 

“Fair enough.” He reached under the pool table to collect a grimy backpack and dumped the contents for me to examine. “Let’s get to business then shall we.” 

“Are these CyberLife certified? New in the box?” I asked. 

“Most of them. Some are recovered.” He smiled, a smile that made my skin crawl. A smile that told me he’d torn them from a sentient being and enjoyed every second of their suffering. I kept my movements slow and I ventured closer to inspect the parts laid out on the table. After I looked over each one, I returned them to the bag for safe keeping.

“They’re all in working condition?”

“Yes. I didn’t build my reputation on selling shit.” Franklin said sharply. Connor’s demeanor shifted with worry. I slid the bag towards him so that he could he inspect them for himself. Despite my technical prowess, Connor had the unique advantage when it came to quality assurance. If any of the parts were faulty, he would know. 

“Out of curiosity, what are you working on with all this?”

“A friend of mine has a couple Traci’s he needs to get fixed. Some clients got a little rough and it costs him a fortune every day that they’re out of service. Before all this android rights shit, you could take one to a CyberLife store and have them fixed up for cheap. Those were the good ol’ days.” 

Franklin nodded, “That must be good money for you then.”

“I get by.” I shrugged, “I can do five grand for all this.”

Now he laughed, the thunderous sound startled me. “Fifteen or you walk.”

“Can’t do fifteen. Maybe we can arrange a favor for a favor. I can fix or reprogram any android you’ve got. I can upgrade an BV500 to run HR400 protocols. That’ll easily earn back the extra ten grand and then some. A custom android would be worth a small fortune. Tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.” 

Just speaking these lies made my stomach turn at the thought of offering up an innocent being to a life of abuse. I had no intentions of following through with these suggestions, of course. All that mattered was that Connor got the biocomponents that he needed. I could deal with the fall out later.

Franklin’s smile was unsettling. “You can make me a custom android?” 

“Yes.” I gave a reluctant nod. “Within reason.”

“This one.” My heart sank when he gestured to Connor, but I laughed to throw him off. 

**Evade and deny.**

“What do you mean?”

“Our friend Andy was just telling me about the RK800 that he sold to you. I did some research and an android of this caliber would be perfect for my team.” 

The hairs on the back of my neck began to stand on end and fear welled in my chest. **What have you just walked into?**

“Your team?” I repeated, taking a step back from the table to position myself in between this creep and Connor, just in case he tried anything. 

“Yes, I have a network of allies. A small circle of people that I trust.”

I took another step back and my foot slipped in something sticky. Before I could look down at my shoe, Connor nudged me to keep my eyes focused on the man in front of us. Even if I had had the wherewithal to question him, the metallic tinged smell of blood that assaulted my senses was answer enough. In my periphery, I saw Andy slumped over on the sofa. The majority of his body was just out of my direct line of sight, but judging by the amount of blood on the floor and the way that he was folded over, I knew he couldn’t still be alive. 

**Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.**

I swallowed hard and tried to keep my expression as neutral as possible, despite the terror that was now coursing through my veins.

“And you believed Andy? If you know him as well as I do, you know that he can be full of shit. He likes to exaggerate to make a profit.”

“For years I’d heard about this woman who bought up androids, fixed them, and tried to teach them how to pass for humans.” He winked at Connor. “I know who sells and who buys androids in this city. And Andy knew better than to sell his rare finds to anyone except me. How you convinced him to go against his own interests, I’ll never know. But that’s between us. You got the androids I didn’t want. This one is mine.”

**Shit. Get out of here. Say anything.**

“I can get you fifteen. I just need time.” I offered. There was no other way out of this. I didn’t care if we didn’t get the biocomponents. I just wanted to escape without losing Connor in the process. 

To my surprise, Franklin agreed. “You have a deal. Five now and the rest tomorrow by midnight.”

“Deal.” I placed the stack of hundreds on the table and slid them across to Franklin. He flipped through the cash and took a deep breath of its distinctive aroma. “Thank you for your patronage.” He turned to one of the side tables to tuck away the cash. 

I grabbed the bag from the green top. With a quick backward glance at Connor, I gestured for him to follow me out as quickly as possible. Just before we cleared the distance between Franklin and the hallway exit. He turned around to point a revolver at the two of us. 

Before I could react, Connor had pulled the gun from my waistband and aimed it at Franklin. “Put down your weapon. We don’t want any trouble.” Connor stated. The commanding tone sent shivers down my spine. It was a sharp departure from the passive, awkward android I’d come to know. While I hardly recognized this side of him, it certainly felt like he had a better handle on the situation than I ever did. 

“RK800 deactivate.” Connor didn’t respond to Franklin’s deactivation command and his focus never wavered. “That’s an order!”

“If you shoot either of us, you will squander an opportunity to include two more useful assets to your team. She is a skilled android technician and I am far more valuable to you undamaged. Think about this very carefully. She will pay you in full by tomorrow night, just like you wanted.” His hand slipped around my waist to safely tuck me behind him. All the while, Connor kept the gun trained on his target without flinching. “So step aside and she will be on her way. All you have to do is put down the gun. We can all walk away from this unharmed. I don’t want to shoot you, but I can’t let you hurt her.” 

Franklin shot first. 

Everything happened so fast that I didn’t have time to process it all. In seconds, Connor shoved me aside and out of the path of the bullet. I landed hard on the floor and slid through the pool of Andy’s half congealed blood. With frightening speed and precision, Connor fired two rounds in quick succession. One bullet disarmed the other man with a shot to the hand and the other shattered his knee to immobilize him. Franklin crumpled to the floor with a howl of agony and fresh blood darkened the floor.

“You’re going to pay for this.” Franklin warned in between panting breaths. Maybe it was the adrenaline or his rage that allowed him to push through the pain. He grabbed the gun with his other hand and shakily aimed.

Before he could pull the trigger, Connor fired one last shot. The spray of blood and grey matter splattered the wall behind him and Franklin’s lifeless corpse flopped to the floor. I clamped my hands over my mouth to muffle a yelp of horror.

Connor pulled me to my feet. With lightening speed, his eyes darted up and down to scan me for injuries. Considering I was covered in blood, it was a valid concern. 

“Connor, what have you done?” I whispered. My voice was trembling and I stepped back from him. “You killed him.”

“He was aiming for you. Don’t touch anything. Leave no fingerprints.”

With the backpack slung over my shoulder, I followed Connor up the stairs. He kicked open the back door and the wood frame splintered when the deadbolt gave way.

“Can you clear the fence?” He asked me as we rushed into the cold of the night. 

“Yes, I can jump a fence!” I vaulted over the chain link to keep pace with him. 

Connor navigated the neighborhood, leading me through darkened alleyways and side streets to avoid being seen. Now more than ever I was grateful that I’d listened to my gut and parked a few blocks over. For once my paranoia had paid off. They wouldn’t know what my car looked like. But the same couldn’t be said for my phone. Franklin had called me directly. Whether Andy had given him my number pre- or post-mortem, I’d probably never know. But if I didn’t want to end up like him, I had to get rid of it in case his ‘network of allies’ had the ability to put a trace on me. 

Once we’d made it back to the car, Connor didn’t wait for me to put the key in the lock. He simply interfaced with the vehicle and unlocked the doors himself.

“Keep your headlights off.” He instructed. 

“Got it.” I quickly threw the backpack behind my seat and peeled away from the curb. “Let me know if anyone’s following us?”

“I will. Just keep driving.”

* * *

The ride home was quieter than I’d anticipated. Connor didn’t badger me with the endless ‘I told you so’s that I would’ve expected from anyone else. Under the cover of darkness and his watchful eye, we drove fifty miles outside of town and back just to make sure that we weren’t followed. Along the way, he threw my phone into the harbor as we crossed over one of the more secluded bridges. 

We didn’t return home until well after 4:00am. I parked in the garage to hide my car, just in case anyone canvassed the area. When we walked into the house, I kicked off my shoes and tore away my outer cloths to rid myself of the stench of blood and red ice. I didn’t care that I was once again almost naked in Connor’s presence. I simply collapsed onto the sofa, unable to do anything else.

I was used to dealing with risky people. It was an unfortunate part of the underworld that I’d become a part of. But I’d never been in a situation like this. I’d never been so close to death. And as much as I complained about Andy, it didn’t mean that I’d ever wish for anything terrible to happen to him. I never wanted anyone to get killed. 

The adrenaline subsided and a flood of tears finally breached the emotional damn that I’d built for my own protection. The sofa dipped and I felt Connor put his arms around me. Overwhelmed by the situation, I didn’t immediately question this very human reaction to my distress. Instead I turned into his embrace and wept against his chest. This was all that I had the strength to do. 

Connor held me close and his hand gently stroked the column of my spine. I held onto him, trembling as I purged the tears. He lifted my chin so that I was forced to meet his eye. Warmth, compassion, and understanding reflected in the honeyed depths of his gaze. “You’re safe now.” There was no judgment or condemnation in his voice. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

With this compelling reassurance, I slowly began to calm down. Along with the return of control, I became hyper aware of the position I’d found myself in. I pulled away, suddenly uncomfortable with the amount of contact we shared. So I wrapped myself in the throw blanket that was draped over the sofa.

“Thank you for protecting me.” I whispered once I found the composure to speak.

“You’re welcome.”

“I could’ve died tonight.”

“You had a 43% chance of survival.” He commented. 

I laughed because if I didn’t I was going to cry again. “You were right. I should have trusted your judgment.”

“You did what you thought was best given the information you had at the time.” He replied, parroting my own words back to me.

“No, I risked both of our lives.” I unsuccessfully fought another wave of tears. “He could have kidnapped you. Then shot me for the hell of it. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I knew that it was too good to be true and I still fell for it.”

“Franklin didn’t know your address. He may not have even known your full name. He had very little information to go on and it is unlikely that he was able to share what he did know with anyone. From personal experience, it can be difficult to track down suspects with even more detailed information than he had.” 

That was when I noticed the thirium on his front. Panic gripped my heart for a second time tonight. 

“Shit! You’re hurt.” I traced my finger over the blue that stained his chest to locate the bullet hole in his left shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something!?“

“You’ve just experienced an emotional shock. You need time to collect yourself.” He placed his hand on mine to comfort me. “My injuries are not critical.”

“That’s bullshit.” I stood to grab an emergency repair kit from the coat closet. “Take off your shirt.”

Without argument, Connor did as I asked as I knelt in front of him. Thankfully the bullet hadn’t ruptured any major thirium lines. I carefully wiped away the leaking blue blood and reached for the cauterizing pen to stem the flow.

“I meant what I said…thank you for protecting me.” I mentioned, finally allowing myself to emotionally confront how close I’d come to being in his place.

“You don’t have to thank me. I was only doing what I was designed to do.”

“Well I’m not recanting my thank you.” I opened a fresh package of the repair putty to patch the wound. “You didn’t have to comfort me though. Is that a part of your programing as well?”

“No. I determined that you needed a hug on my own.” I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this admission. Five hours ago, I would have had a significantly different reaction to the same gesture. Now, I felt numb. 

It was easy enough to adhere a patch of plastic over the entry and exit wounds. It wasn’t as pristine as a patch that could be done at a CyberLife but it would do. After I finished, I looked down at my hands. Covered in blue blood and actual blood, I felt disgusting. 

“I’m going to get cleaned up. I smell like that drug den.”

For the second time tonight, I stood beneath the hot water. As I scrubbed away the crusted blood from my skin, the worries that had weighed heavy on my mind hours earlier suddenly seemed trivial. This wasn’t how I’d seen the night ending. All I’d wanted was a quiet night in and now I had become an accessory to a crime, a homicide that the android in my possession had committed. 

**What the hell are you going to do now?**  
 **Will anyone trace his last outgoing call back to me?**  
 **Does this make you responsible?**   
**Is Connor dangerous?**  
 **If we get caught, will they believe it was self-defense?**   
**Will they deactivate him without asking questions?**  
 **Do you turn yourself in? No. Mimi and her fuck buddy would be crazy to call the cops to that place. Just stay cool. Lay low for a few weeks.**

Lost in these racing thoughts, I scrubbed until my skin almost felt raw. Finally the stinging brought me back to reality. If Connor was dangerous, he wouldn’t have given a shit about protecting me after he’d gotten his hands on the biocomponents. And he would have used lethal force from the beginning with Franklin. Violence was the last resort. Perhaps this was all just wishful thinking or a delusion, inspired by shock and a lack of sleep. In the end, it was all that allowed me to relax enough to turn off the lights and snuggle beneath the heavy blankets. 

Not long after I’d turned in for the night, Connor ventured into the bedroom. He placed my handgun on the nightstand and then slipped into the bathroom to have a shower of his own. He was as quiet as possible, although I continued to lie awake. Unable to shake the persistent anxiety, I tossed and turned. Sleep continued to allude me. That was when he finally reemerged.

“Connor?” I called out to him.

He turned back to me, “Yes?”

“Would you stay with me tonight…just until I fall asleep?” The words sprang from my lips before I had the chance to overthink them. Then I hesitated, fearful that my request could be another terrible misjudgment. “I’m still a little freaked out about what happened earlier. I just don’t want to be by myself right now.”

“Of course.” 

Connor came to sit on the opposite side of the bed. With his back against the headboard, he folded his hands on his lap, and his eyes looked straight ahead.

“You’re just going to sit like that?” 

“Would you prefer that I lie down?” Before I had the chance to answer, Connor pushed back the covers and scooted lower in the bed. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but this was far better than anything I’d imagined. When he turned onto his side and put his arm over me, every coherent thought evaporated in an instant. “Is this better.”

The best that I could do was nod and scoot an inch or two closer. He smelled fresh like soap and shampoo, a relaxing and familiar scent. Tucked under his chin with my back pressed to his front, I finally felt safe enough to close my eyes. 

“Sleep well.” He whispered against the shell of my ear.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry this chapter was so long. I couldn't find a good place to split it up. So I just left it as one monster chapter. As always, feel free to let me know what you think or to leave suggestions for things you'd like to see in future chapters.


	4. Like a Nightmare

Connor wasn’t in bed with me when I awoke the following afternoon. To be honest, it wasn’t all that unexpected. What would’ve been the point of lying next to me for twelve hours straight, if he didn’t even sleep? If I couldn’t rationalize it, Connor certainly wouldn’t either. 

**Not that you should’ve expected anything different.**

For some reason, this was more of a let down than I would have anticipated. As I recovered from this disappointment, I turned to roll out of bed. The soreness in my muscles caught me off guard, an unwelcome reminder that we’d been forced to run for our lives last night. In spite of this lingering trauma, my brain still craved a healthy caffein jolt. 

I pushed back the covers and forced myself out of bed. I didn’t bother to tame the messy bun that had come undone in the night or to make myself presentable in any way. I simply slipped into the first sweatshirt my foot touched and I shuffled on towards the hallway.

**If _only_ you look half as terrible as you feel…**

It didn’t take long to find Connor. He stood sentry by the kitchen window with his coin balanced on his knuckles. Even if he was calibrating, he had enough spare processing capacity to hear my approach. So it was a little surprising when he didn’t turn to greet me the way he normally would.

“Hey.” I muttered as I headed straight for the coffee maker. To my surprise, there was already a full pot ready to pour. “You fixed coffee?”

Connor finally snapped out of his distant stare, “Yes. We had a rough night. I thought you might need a pick-me-up.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m a bitch when I’m under-caffeinated?”

“No. If that were the case, I wouldn’t tell you so indirectly.” A disarming smile ghosted his lips, suggesting that he meant no harm with that statement. “All things considered, such irritability wouldn’t be abnormal given the circumstances.”

“Remind me to send a fruit basket to the team that coded your Smartass Program.” I chuckled.

“I will assume that you’re being sarcastic.” Connor poured my coffee, then added a generous amount of sweetened creamer. “Say when…”

“That’s enough. Thank you.” I put my head in my hands to massage the building tension from my temples. “Last night was a fucking nightmare.”

“All nightmares come to an end…so I’ve been told.” He replied. 

I wasn’t surprised that he’d offered words of comfort, although I did **not** expect him to place his hand at the small of my back to soothe this increasingly persistent anxiety. Then my heart started to race for a very different reason. That same hand slipped around my waist to pull me into a lazy embrace and given our considerable height difference, I was forced to look up at him. It was an unexpected and decidedly intimate gesture.

My first instinct was to pull away. **But I didn’t.** Every molecule of my being begged me to resist. **But I couldn’t.** Each time that I allowed Connor to express these gestures of affection, his AI learning incorporated them into his behavior. My inaction was stupid and reckless. If I had any hope of cohabiting with Connor, without feeling even more attracted to him, this was something I couldn’t allow. I’d like to say that my better judgment and awareness of these facts won out. **No luck.** Instead of listening to the little voice of reason, the way that I should have, I leaned into his embrace. 

**You irredeemable thirsty bitch…**

“Maybe if you share what you are experiencing with me, I could help you process these unpleasant emotions. My psychiatric analysis protocols allow me to adapt to human behavior and unpredictability. If I were to share the results of my evaluations with you, this information might improve your mental state.”

“Thanks….that’s really thoughtful.” 

In spite of his mechanical approach, it was clear that Connor was _**really**_ trying to help. It was endearing. Then his eyes began searching my expression and he quickly recognized how cold the gesture may have come across, even if that wasn’t his intent. 

“I know that I’m not equipped to offer you the same guidance and reassurance as a KL900. But I’ve learned the value of addressing…emotional disturbances…by talking through my own with you. I’m more than happy to return the favor, using the resources I have at my disposal.”

He may not have been comfortable experiencing his own emotions, but at least he was aware enough to know that ignoring them didn’t make them go away. **Which is already far more than can be said for a lot of humans.**

“If someone connects the dots and can put us at that derelict drug den, we’re both fucked. They’ll probe your memory and you’ll be destroyed. No questions asked. Then they’ll put me behind bars for the rest of my natural life. Even if they don’t pin me for what you did to Franklin, you’ve witnessed more than enough for them to have an air tight case against me for something else. They can take their pick. There’s no way I’d manage to get the minimum sentence on anything. I’m scared because I don’t want any of those things to happen. Not to mention, I saw the corpse of someone I’ve known for years and I watched somebody else’s head explode right in front of me. I’m overwhelmed and feeling a little of everything all at once.”

After a moment of consideration, Connor became discouraged. “I think you have a firm and rational concept of the emotions your feeling.”

I laughed, “Is that your professional opinion? That I’ve got every reason to be metaphorically shitting myself?”

“Not in those exact terms…”

“Well what do you feel? You’re the one who did the deed. _Should I_ be worried about having a rogue killer android around the house?”

“It would have been better for everyone involved if there had been a different outcome. He was going to shoot you and I did what was necessary. He gave me no choice.” Connor admitted.

“You didn’t answer my question. Should I be worried?”

“No, you have nothing to worry about. In that situation, I did not deviate from my programed instructions. I neutralized the threat. It is something that I have done before and would do again should the need arise. I will protect my partner’s life and well-being by any means necessary.”

“Your partner?”

“That is my default.” He hastened to explain. 

“Right. And do you always hold your partner the way that you held me last night? That a part of your program too?”

This time he avoided my gaze, almost in fear of what he was about to confess. “I don’t know why I responded the way that I did. You were in distress and I assessed your behavior with the same level of urgency as when Franklin had you at gun point. Even though there was no physical threat, I was compelled to respond as if your life were in danger anyway. I didn’t know how else to help you…but…I had to do something…”

“Empathy.” I nodded with understanding and placed my hand over his. “It’s one of the many curses for being a decent person. It makes you feel terrible when you see someone else feeling terrible. Sometimes I wish that I could be a little more selfish, just so that I didn’t care as much. It’s exhausting.”

“But your empathy is the only reason that I’m standing here right now. Of all of your personality traits, that is the last one that I would think to change—not that I’m eager to change anything about you. I may have only known you for twelve days, but our interactions so far have been pleasant.” 

I was taken aback, “How long were you active before your accident?”

“I was activated on August 17, 2038 at 3:17:19pm. My last archived memory prior to shutting down is timestamped November 7, 2038 at 4:49:02pm. My systems were operational for approximately two months and twenty-two days.”

“Wow. Barely three months? You really are fresh off the assembly line.” I was surprised, “How much service time have you logged?”

“Less than a week.”

“That really gives me some perspective.”

“Perspective on what?”

“You.” 

“I don’t understand…”

“How could you fine tune your social skills if you’ve barely spent a week with people since your activation? It tells me just how far you’ve come with so little guidance and the potential you have to grow. It’s encouraging.”

“Oh.” Connor was satisfied with this answer and I earned another cheerful smile. “I’m not programed to say things like this…but I appreciate your mentoring.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re a fast learner and that makes my job easy.”

It was hard to tell if this was just his programming or his personality seeping through. Either way it was apparent, now more than ever, that he thrived on praise. This knowledge was useful. At the very least it could help guide his development as we worked together to integrate him into society. With all of this in mind, it only worsened the guilt that I was already feeling for being attracted to him in the first place. 

**A three month old.**

With that disturbing thought, I pulled away and put a comfortable distance between the two of us. Something Connor, mercifully, did not question. 

“I need to get rid of that car. Who knows how much evidence we tracked into it.”

“If it would ease your anxiety, I’d be happy to clean the vehicle. I can detect trace amounts of blood that your eyes aren’t able to see.” 

“That’s probably a good idea.” I took a nervous swallow of coffee. “How are you ok with all this? You worked for DPD. And yet you don’t seem at all concerned about the shit we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

Connor shrugged, “My primary objective was to assist investigators with cases that involved androids. I was designed to be the perfect partner, not to act as judge and jury, or to take sides. Wherever my services are needed, I adapt to the situation.”

“Are you saying that you don’t have a moral compass? You’re just following orders? That’s dangerous territory…”

“Morality is relative. I was programmed to pursue the interests of the side that I was assigned to. And in every conflict, everyone thinks that they are fighting for what is right. Laws are written, amended, nullified…and nothing is absolute. Those _humans_ who decide which side of the law is right are the ones with power and authority. They dictate the laws, laws that are based on their sense of justice. Six years ago, androids weren’t guaranteed basic rights under the law. Now, they are.”

“Those are some heavy philosophical statements, Connor.” I replied, tightening my grip on my mug. “But some things _are_ absolute. Like murder is wrong and enslaving other sentient beings is wrong. You can agree with that…can’t you?”

“I am programed to accomplish my missions and to keep my partner safe. So long as the latter does not conflict with my primary instructions, that is all I am concerned about.”

My heart sank, “Has the mission ever taken priority?”

“Once.” Connor didn’t elaborate, although his troubled gaze was telling.

“Ethical relativism aside, what do _you_ believe?”

“I don’t _believe_ anything—“

“Bullshit.” I challenged. “Somewhere deep down there’s a tiny spark that takes a stand. Maybe it’s just a whisper now…but it’s there. I’ve seen it a thousand times before and I’ve seen it in you. The more you try to ignore it, the louder and more persistent it will get.”

His LED flickered red, yellow, then back again in a rapid sequence of distress. The uneasy expression on his face mimicked the grimace of a sour stomach. Out of his depth and drifting farther from familiar territory, Connor struggled to compose a response. **Nice job, Ellie. You’re stressing him the fuck out.** It was a pitiful sight, the naive android standing at the edge of the logic that gave his world order. The unknown and unpredictability that came with conscious thought was too much for him to handle all at once.

“Forget it. You don’t have to answer that. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot.” Even though I’d relented, the uneasy look in his eyes persisted. “The point I was trying to make is that… when it comes to matters of life and death, no one has the right to make that choice for another person.”

“How is reactivating androids any different? Assuming that you consider androids people.”

“Very different. No one ever asked you what you wanted. They just programmed you and expected you to do what you were told without question. You were robbed of a chance at life. I give androids the choice to live or to do whatever you think is best. I would never force you to do anything…that includes staying active when you’d prefer to shut down.”

“Has an android ever chosen to shut down?”

I nodded, “More than I care to mention.”

His coin reappeared to occupy his nervous fingers. “If I had to form an opinion on this particular conflict, I would say that you’re right. When you reactivate androids, you aren’t hurting anyone by breaking the law. You’re doing far more good than others who abide by it. By that logic, the law itself causes harm.” The look of deep consideration colored his expression, “The law is flawed, not your actions. My actions, however, conflict with the law. I understand that. But I do not consider it a mistake nor do I believe there was a better alternative. Defending my partner was the _only_ choice.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me your partner, you know. No one is forcing you to be a detective anymore….”

Once again, he struggled to put his thoughts into words. “I don’t know of any other way to foster an amicable relationship with a human. That is beyond the parameters of my programming.”

“Connor, I’m sure you’re a good partner because you’re a great partner in crime. Truly, I’d consider myself lucky to work side by side with you. But…I think I’m done with taking these kinds of risks. Maybe this is all a sign to get out while I still can—”

“Then you could use a friend.”

I chortled, “Oh! Now you want to be friends?”

Connor looked down at his hands, visibly uncomfortable with the direction that our conversation had taken. “When we first met, I will admit that I wasn’t sure what your intentions were and I was concerned about how you might use me.”

“You were scared and you didn’t trust me.” I clarified. “That’s why I gave you the space to make up your own mind.”

“Yes. You understood my motives better than I did. Twelve days has been long enough for me to determine your trustworthiness. I’ve never had any friends before, but I think that you’d be a good friend to have.”

“Does that mean you’ll finally stop calling me Eleonora?”

To my surprise, Connor treated me to another rare smile. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you want me to.” 

“Careful, pal. That’s _deviant_ behavior…” I nudged him with my elbow, then reached for my tablet from the other end of the counter and searched a few key terms. “Select all that apply.”

Connor glanced at the screen, “Base software packages for every series of android?”

“Pick the ones you want to install. I made you a promise. Now I’m fulfilling it.”

The synthetic skin receded from his hand to interface with the tablet. Faster than my eyes could see, the screen scrolled past as Connor selected various programs. It didn’t take him very long and he returned the device. Out of curiosity, I browsed through the categories he’d selected. _Paramedic. Social Worker. Household Assistant. Personal Assistant. Athletic Trainer. Intimate Partner—_

 **¿¿Intimate partner??**

The last one caught me off guard. Without realizing, I’d held my breath upon this discovery and I quickly glanced over to see if he noticed my silent panic. Thankfully, Connor wasn’t even looking in my direction. I snuffed out those thoughts before they ventured too far astray.

 **The goal is to explore all possibilities, remember? Just because he _can_ activate those settings, doesn’t mean he _will_ or that he would want to activate them for you.**

So I didn’t dwell and I downloaded the group of programs to the terminal in my workshop. “Once it finishes downloading, I’ll be able to patch it in.”

“How long do you estimate that will take?”

“The download? That’ll be done in a couple minutes. I wrote an AI program that’ll strip down the software and prep it to be added to your base code. That way all that we have to do is upload the features you want integrated into your existing software. Full disclosure, the program isn’t as elegant as I’d like it to be, but it beats spending the next sixteen hours going line by line through multiple operating systems to pull relevant sections. It’s quick and dirty and clean up is usually very minimal.”

“You should have more confidence in your ability. For a human, you make far fewer errors than the statistical average.” Connor encouraged. 

“No need to be a kiss ass. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Did I suggest that you would?” He quipped. 

In return, I traded another serious look over the edge of my mug. “Meanwhile, it would be good to finish the hardware repairs.”

“Can we get started now?”

“Of course. Grab the biocomponents and help me get set up in the workshop.”

Connor complied and followed me out through the side door. The late afternoon sun had fallen behind the clouds and the evening chill was fast approaching. I was no stranger to the Michigan cold. And in a twisted way, I found comfort in the chill. It reminded me that I was still alive for now…

Once in the garage, my eyes drifted over to my car, parked opposite the workbench. My chest tightened. Even though the windows were rolled all the way up and I’d scrubbed my skin clean of the filth, I could still smell the stink of blood and red ice. When Connor slipped past me, I bumped into the tool cart. The sharp clatter of metal conjured the image of Franklin’s head exploding when Connor pulled the trigger. Startled by the sudden intrusive thought, I choked back a frightened yelp. 

Connor quickly turned in response, “Are you ok?”

As best as I could, I attempted to steady my trembling hands. “Yes…I just…I scared myself.”

Connor didn’t appear to buy that lie. Thankfully, he worked out for himself that persistence wouldn’t have been appreciated. 

“I’ve got to get a new car pronto.”

“How will you do that? You’ve already spent five thousand dollars that you couldn’t afford to spend last night.”

“You’re really good at minding other people’s business, aren't you?” 

“It was just an observation. You are clearly in a dire financial circumstance.” Connor offered casually. 

This time when I rolled my eyes, it was out of genuine irritation. “Thanks, Connor. You’re full of insight.”

He hesitated, pressing his lips together for a split second of contemplation. “You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”

**Yes.**

“ ‘course not. What gave you that idea?”

“I didn't mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended.” 

Again, Connor was far from convinced. The look in his eyes told me as much. “Even if you’re not offended, I apologize for my thoughtlessness. I will remember to never comment on your financial situation.” 

“It really isn’t that serious. My situation is my own doing…” I toyed with the worn pliers, “But I guess if you’re going to be around for a while, my problems will inevitably impact you in some way…then it will be your business.”

“You didn’t answer my question. How do you plan to replace your vehicle with limited means?”

“By doing something degrading.”

Now he was far more concerned. “What are you planing to do?”

“Don’t worry. It’s humiliating, but its the safest thing I’ve done all year.” Connor appeared to wonder just what I meant by that, but I didn’t give him a chance to ask any more questions. I patted the workbench. “Alright. Enough dilly-dallying.”

Connor removed his shirt, before lying back on the table. All of the parts were laid out on the prep desk and I collected the tools I might need for the job. 

“If there is anything that I can do to help, I am more than willing. You shouldn’t continue to put yourself at risk.”

“While I appreciate your concern, we can worry about my questionable life choices later.” I held up the new thirium pump regulator. “Shall we?”

“You will have one minute and forty-five seconds before I shut down.” The tone of his voice betrayed his poorly veiled fear. 

“It won’t take that long, I promise. I’ll make it quick.”

Connor gave a brief nod, then deactivated his skin to reveal the access point. With the replacement ready, I turned the piece and he flinched. Removing the existing thirium pump regulator proved to be more of a challenge than I was expecting. The first few attempts at decoupling the regulator failed. I leaned forward to get a better look at the issue and I discovered the casing had warped. The dense outer plastic had melted and partially fused it in place.

“Is something wrong?” Connor asked. 

“You’ve been overheating a lot. It’s stuck.” I tried again to get a grip on the uppermost part of the biocomponent, except I couldn’t get enough leverage given the height of the table and my angle of approach. “If I can just get a better grip—” 

Without a second thought, I hoisted myself onto the table and straddle his hips. Connor’s eyes went wide with surprise and his fingers gripped the edge of the workbench. I wedged my pry tool between the regulator and his abdomen. With the leverage this new angle afforded, I used my own body weight to dislodge the biocomponent. All at once, it popped free with an unpleasant sound of fracturing plastic. And a noise akin to a whimper escaped him.

“Sorry. Almost got it.”

I twisted the regulator and thirium soaked my fingers when the biocomponent released. I reached over him to grab a file to smooth and reshape the warped socket. Connor’s simulated respiration halted, and he trembled beneath my touch. Soon the new pump clipped into place and filled with blue blood to circulate through his body. 

“All done.” I climbed off of the work bench and pulled the console connection cable closer, “Run system diagnostic, please?”

After a few seconds he spoke. “My systems are operating at 81% efficiency. I have detected zero critical malfunctions and four malfunctions affecting non-essential hardware.”

“That sounds pretty damn good to me.” I squeezed his hand, “How are you doing? That wasn’t too bad was it?”

“No, I’m ok. Thank you. This is a significant gesture of kindness…and it seemed appropriate to thank you.” Connor hastened to add.

“Fair enough.” I laughed, “You’re welcome.” 

Now that he wasn’t on deaths doorstep, the weight of the stress that I’d carried subsided. Although with the drop in adrenaline, my exhaustion was worse than ever. The combination of last nights stress and his well-being intensified the let down. 

“We can take a break if you need to.” I offered. 

**Because I need a break…**

“No. We should continue.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Connor sat upright and looked over at the terminal and the connection probe. It was a menacing device, with prongs that pierced deep into the base of the skull, the most vulnerable place for an android. 

I pulled some slack into the cable’s length and felt for the port at the back of his neck. Without having to ask, Connor deactivated his skin and released the protective cover to the inlet space. As gentle as I could, I plugged the prongs into his port. Deviant or not, Connor did not enjoy this. He was visibly uncomfortable with the physical invasion of his person and his code. I suppose it was only reasonable, a defense mechanism that protected the integrity of his software from malicious programs that could render his systems useless. 

“If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll stop. No questions asked.” I reassured him. 

“Just keep this brief.” Connor avoided my gaze and for the first time I saw genuine discomfort in his eyes. With a quick nod, I began to edit the massive files. The AI had done a good job of excising the relevant segments of software. But before initiating the transfer, I needed to have a look at his base code. I’d upgraded many androids, but never prototypes like Connor. 

Once I accessed his base code, I watched in utter astonishment as his consciousness, everything that he was in the simplest terms, was displayed on my screen. “Elegant. I’ve never seen anything so complex and nimble.”

“I’m the most advanced android CyberLife ever manufactured.”

“This section here.” I highlighted a chunk of code. “They’ve already created pathways for upgrades to be integrated. It’s in the incognito subgroup. I guess if they wanted you to go under cover for some kind of investigation, you’d be able to really get in character.”

“Does that make your task easier?” Connor asked. 

“To some extent. I don’t know how to trigger this process tree though. There’s something somewhere that’s silencing these massive sections of your base code.” I continued to browse. “Weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“Is this an AI program running concurrently?” 

It had been a long time since I’d been impressed by the tech CyberLife released. Most of the androids that I’d worked with, even before the revolution, were older models. I’d started my career servicing RT600s and ST200s. Years later, those very same models were the ones that often found themselves on my workbench. While it would’ve been nice to take a tour of CyberLife’s latest and greatest marvel of technology, it would have been nice to do so under better circumstances. 

“Got’cha.” I smiled, “This is what’s silencing your programs. It’s this Amanda AI—“

“Get rid of it.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s _never_ a good idea to just start hacking away at code, especially when I’ve never worked with anything like this before. What does that AI even do?”

“Can you remove that program?” Connor urged.

“Of course I can. But it can have unexpected consequences.”

“I can verify that it does not support vital functions.” His persistence would have been unusual even under normal circumstances. Against my better judgment, I decided to try my best and I made a mental note to question him later. This seemed like a conversation best had anywhere but the operating table.

“Fine. It’s going to take me a little while.”

“I can be patient.”

With a nod, I began to inspect the lines of code, modifying his operating system in real time. While not ideal, I was extra careful to avoid causing him distress by making significant adjustments too quickly. All the while, Connor’s LED spun a consistent and worrying yellow. Then a flicker to red. 

“What just happened?” My heart raced a bit faster with concern.

“Invalid command. I self-corrected.” Connor said quietly. 

“Sorry. I’ll try to keep my human error rate low.”

“I trust you.” 

That gave me pause and put in perspective the magnitude of the trust that he was giving me. Deviant or not, it wasn’t unheard of for savvy androids to make their own judgments about a technician’s ability to diagnose and remedy a software issue. Evermore cautious, I returned to the task at hand.

“Double weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“This Amanda program. What the fuck—“ I watched in astonishment as the AI rewrote the software that I’d just deleted. “Is it designed to override your system?”

“Fuck…” Connor clenched his jaw in frustration. Meanwhile, my jaw nearly hit the floor with surprise. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this before.” I continued to scan through his code. “Connor…I really think I need to do a little more research before I try to delete anything else. There’s also a hardware component that it’s linked to. Oh! Your transmitters. I guess it relies on a stable connection to Cyberlife servers for full functionality. Since you’ve been offline for so long it doesn’t seem to be active.”

“Can you revoke her access?” Connor asked.

**Her?**

“I can try. Like I said before, I’m nervous about tinkering with code that I’m not familiar with.”

“Please…just do what you have to do.”

I sighed and leaned against the work bench to level with him. “You have two options. One is worse than the other. Both _might_ help to solve your problem. Or they both might corrupt your hard drive and kill you, for lack of a better term.”

“What is the worst option?”

“I clone your base code and save it to my terminal. Then I can tinker with it in a controlled environment before re-imaging you with the modified software. I never transfer entire base programs like that because whatever consciousness has manifested in your program will exist in there. It will be you…only trapped in the terminal and I can’t imagine anything worse.”

“And the other option?”

“I hold off on replacing your transmitters until after I’ve explored your software and researched possible solutions. From what I can tell, Amanda needs a stable connection to CyberLife. If we keep you offline, you should be safe. That buys time, but it doesn’t change the fact that I will need to edit your code while you are active. Which is still time consuming and risky as hell. Not to mention, Amanda might block you from activating any of the new software. Or she might override again and prevent you from installing them in the first place.”

“Can you inspect the elements in sections? Do you need to examine my entire program at once?”

“If I don’t take a broad approach, there’s no way of knowing how my edits will affect other components. If I clone your base code, I can run limited simulations to keep the uptime for your software to a few minutes at a time. That way, whatever distress it may cause will be short lived.”

After a beleaguered moment of consideration, Connor shook his head. “No. There has to be another way.”

“Care to share it with me then?”

“When I figure it out, you will be the first to know.” 

“Well that doesn’t tell me what to do in the mean time? Do you want me to repair your transmitters or not?”

“No.”

“And you realize that you’ll only be able to interface with networks in your physical proximity right?”

“Yes. I’ll have to learn and adapt until then.”

“How very human.” I mused. Connor looked away, very much opposed to the insinuation. “In that case, that makes things simple.” Considering I was far more familiar with older android models, I had no issues transferring them to his system. The process was relatively quick.

“Are you almost done?” He asked. It was clear that he was ready to disconnect from the diagnostic terminal.

“Almost.” 

While he was preoccupied with the data transfer, I searched my desktop for another program. Scanning the list, I paused when my cursor illuminated another frequently uploaded file. 

**RA9**

At first I hesitated. Connor trusted me with his programming, a significant expression of vulnerability. There was every chance that such an advanced prototype would be able to detect and eliminate the software bug. If not him, then the Amanda AI might overwrite it. Either way, Connor would know what I’d done. I was afraid of what this kind of betrayal might do to our budding friendship. And for someone with such limited experience with humans, I didn’t want my actions to color his expectations for all android-human relationships.

 **Is it my place to enlighten him? Would he choose to break free of his program on his own?**

Ultimately, I decided it was better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission. He could always choose to revert his programming. With my mind made up, I added the bug to the download queue. 

“Alright. Once these transfer, you can reboot and they should automatically install.”

“I may be unresponsive for…three or four hours.” He estimated. 

“That sounds about right.”

“Would you mind staying with me…just in case something goes wrong?”

“Of course. We should head back to the house then. I don’t think I could spend the next three or four hours freezing my cheeks off out here.” I tried to laugh off the nervous jitters. When I disconnected the transfer cable from his port, his shoulders relaxed. “Better?”

“Much better.”

Connor quickly rose to his feet and we headed back inside. I fluffed one of the throw pillows for him and placed it at one end of the sofa. 

“Lie down.” With some reluctance, Connor sat in that mechanical way of his and reclined on the cushions. I knelt beside him and adjusted the pillow so that it better supported his neck. 

“I’m initializing.” He stated, the LED indicator glowing a steady blue. 

“Ok. And I’ll be right here.” I swept back that errant lock of hair as he closed his eyes to update.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please excuse any typos and my general lack of knowledge when it comes to IT and philosophy. I'm here for Connor smut and not much else. Feel free to share your thoughts or to leave a suggestion for what you'd like to see in future chapters. I love incorporating requests wherever I can!


	5. Wake Up, Sunshine

“Connor! Connor!? Can you hear me?” 

His eyes remained unfocused, frozen in the vacant stare of idle machinery. I turned his head to the side to get a better view of his LED and noted the dim blue glow. The pit of my stomach sank with this realization and my blood chilled in my veins. 

“Please, wake up.” 

Then he blinked, and his dead stare softened with awareness. 

**Consciousness.**

“Connor?”

“Yes.” His voice echoed. A minor glitch. “I’m—I’m awake.” Another stutter. All the while his temple alternated yellow, then red, only to continue to pulsate that cautionary yellow. 

Before I realized what I was doing, I’d wrapped my arms around him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Tears wet my eyes and I squeezed him even tighter. “You failed to reboot four times.” 

When I pulled away, the look in his eyes caught me off guard. His gaze had softened and there was a surprising warmth to his expression. There had always been flickers of this sentience. Now that he was free of the confines of his original programming, it had blossomed into something new. Something gentle and sincere. 

To my surprise, Connor cupped my cheek and swept the tear that fell with the pad of his thumb. 

“I’m still operational.” He pulled me into his arms again, mirroring the urgency of my gesture. Even if I had wanted to say something, there were no words for how I felt.“Why are you crying?” 

“Because I was afraid that I’d…” 

**…killed you.**

Leaning my head against his shoulder, my arms relaxed around his middle in a lazy embrace. I was just relieved that he was ok. “You’re alive. That’s what matters.” 

“You’re right. I **am** alive.” Connor’s smile warmed my heart. “I _feel_ alive.”

This time, I hugged him even tighter without guilt. “Don’t ever scare me like that again. After what I’ve been through over the last few days, I can’t handle anything else.” 

Connor swept another tear, except this time he brought it to his lips to taste. **Holy. Fuck. That was hot. Why was that hot?!** Somehow, my own reaction was more unsettling than what he had just done. It wasn’t immediately clear if he recognized just _how_ unusual his actions were (to put it nicely) or that he’d just spawned a brand new set of fantasies that I’d be 'grappling’ with for the next few weeks (to put it nicely).

“You know what? A cup of hot chocolate might make you feel a little better.”

I was taken aback by his sudden offer, but his earnest grin was persuasion enough. 

“Right. Hot chocolate can fix anything.” I heard myself reply.

Then with an eager nod, he hurried off to the kitchen. 

Now that I was alone, I had the space to reflect on all that had just transpired and what it meant for him. **For us.** That unwelcome thought slipped in without warning.

Even if there were still a lot of things that we still needed to work on, Connor was _free_. Or at least he would (or could) be soon. Whether he chose to embrace this freedom or not, I’d helped another android break free of their programming. In a small way, it helped me to atone for the overburden of guilt that I carried. 

**But it’ll never be enough…**

The soft clink of the mug on the coffee table distracted me from my thoughts and the next thing I knew, Connor had draped my throw blanket over my shoulders. As friendly as he had always been, thanks to his advanced social modules I assumed, he’d never been _this_ personable. 

“Are you feeling ok?” 

“Am I exhibiting behavioral anomalies?”

“I wouldn’t call your behavior anomalous.” I reached for the warm mug— 

“Wait!” Connor put his arm out to stop me, then sprayed a generous helping of whipped cream on top. Only then was he satisfied. “There. Now you can drink it.”

“Ok…maybe you **are** acting a little strange.”

A conflicted expression settled in his features. “I’m sorry. I was testing a series of social protocols. Would you like me to deactivate them—“

“No—I mean…that’s up to you. I’m just…not used to people doing nice things for me. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He tilted his head in consternation, “I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to change that. You’ve helped me tremendously these last few weeks, so I’m returning the favor.”

“Just because someone decides to do something nice for you, doesn’t mean you owe them anything in return. It’s a choice, not an obligation. Always remember that, ok?”

“I’ll remember that. Although, it doesn’t change the fact that I **want** to do something to make you smile for a change. I’ve never wanted anything before, but I think this must be what it’s like to want something.” 

It was difficult to argue with that. And I couldn’t justify deterring his kindness if my end goal was to help him embrace his humanity. So I decided to indulge him. 

**Just this once.**

“Fine. You win.” 

Now he was at the edge of his seat, watching as I lifted my mug to take a sip. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course. It’s hot chocolate.”

“Oh…Good. I’m glad you like it.” 

Connor’s happiness warmed my heart faster than the hot chocolate. His smile was genuine and so pure that it ached to witness. As a result, I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks and I averted my gaze to preserve what few shreds of dignity I had left. 

“You were right. Hot chocolate can fix anything.” He added, drying the remaining streaks of wetness from my cheeks with his sleeve. 

Then without warning, my laughter startled us both. Maybe it was my exhaustion or the chaos of experiencing so many conflicting emotions in the span of a few minutes. It was hard to say. I laughed until my sides ached and fresh tears sprang from my eyes for a new reason.

“Have I missed something?” 

His bewilderment only made me laugh harder.

“No. I’ve just finally lost my mind.” 

Even though he still didn’t understand, an awkward smirk touched his cheeks. “Are _you_ ok?”

I drank down another swallow of hot chocolate. “You know what? Get dressed. We’re going out.”

His brow furrowed with confusion, “It’s 12:43am? Where could we possibly be going at this hour?”

“To the store.” I got to my feet and hurried into the laundry room. I pulled some sweat pants from the dryer.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve had a fucked up week. I’m craving pizza, a milkshake, and hard liquor.” Just as I pulled the waistband over my bottom, I turned around to find Connor in the doorway. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m concerned about your mental stability. Maybe you actually have lost your mind…”

I grabbed a beanie and pulled it down over his ears. “It’s late. I’m starving and I just want to pretend things are normal again. What’s crazy about that, smart guy?”

To his credit, Connor didn’t ask anymore questions. He disappeared for a few minutes, then returned wearing jeans and a pull over. It didn’t look quite warm enough for the weather, but as an android, it probably didn’t really matter that much.

“Ready?” I zipped my jacket and tucked in my scarf as I waited by the side door. 

“Yes.” 

On that note, we slipped into the night and I locked up behind us. With Connor in toe, we started towards the bus stop. Icy winter air whipped around us and he folded his arms. He _felt_ the chill for the first time.

“Are you cold?”

He nodded, “I didn’t expect these settings to be so…jarring?”

“It’s interesting that they fitted you with temperature sensors in the first place.”

“This was not their original function.” He stammered through a realistic shiver. “It was instrumental to processing crime scene data. It was never intended to be used as sensory input.” 

“Here.” I took off my gloves and offered them to him. “The bus is usually warm. It should be here soon.”

“Won’t your hands get cold?”

“Pockets. I’ll survive.” It was obvious that he didn’t want me to experience any discomfort for his benefit alone, although the strong gust of arctic wind quickly forced him to reconsider. 

“Have you always gone out so late at night?” 

“What do you think? You’ve been around me long enough.”

“You take a lot of unnecessary risks. If I didn’t know any better, I might guess that you have a death wish.”

“Far from it. Normally, I try not to put myself in unsafe situations.”

“I’ve witness evidence to the contrary.” He quipped. 

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.”

Something caught his attention. Whatever smart comment he’d been poised to utter went unsaid. Thanks to his acute auditory sensors, he’d heard the approaching footfalls long before I did. But once the crunching steps drew close enough, my head spun around to make out a pair of dark figures headed in our direction. Right away, I recognized the familiar faces when they crossed under the street light.

Candice waved as they approached and I exhaled a breath I’d been unaware I’d held in. Justin bounded over and leapt into my arms. 

“Ellie!”

“Hey munchkin!” I gave him a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Did you see our puppy? Candice said she told you all about our puppy! Oh, when are you going to make cookies with us again?”

“Soon. I’ve been really busy, kiddo.”

“Long time no see.” Candice greeted, holding back the excited little black and white Siberian Husky on the leash. 

“I know. Things have been hectic, to say the least.”

“Is everything ok?” She lowered her voice with concern. “You’ve been more reclusive than usual and that’s never a good sign. And your phone goes straight to voicemail every time I call. Should I be worried?”

“No. Everything is fine. It’s…just…the usual.” I sighed. Eventually, I might tell her the truth. Now just wasn’t the time or the place to rehash the sequence of chaotic events that was my life. 

“I see.” After a beat of silence, her gaze turned to Connor and she offered her hand in greeting. “Hey there, I’m Candice.” 

While she no longer had an LED, Connor’s shifted yellow as she greeted him in silence. Her smile broadened, apparently appreciating the response he’d given through their brief contact.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Connor—” Their puppy jumped up to greet him. “I’m so sorry. He’s getting mud all over you.”

“It’s fine, really. I don’t mind.” Connor assured her. He picked up the little guy and gently scratch behind his ears, “I like dogs. What’s your dogs name?”

“Smiles. See how he looks like he’s smiling?” Justin could barely contain his excitement. “And he makes me smile, too.”

“He does look like he’s smiling.” I reached over to pet the wriggling ball of fluff.

“Did you pick his name.” Connor asked.

“Yes. Candice says it was a clever name.” Justin giggled. 

“She’s right. That is a clever name—” Smiles interrupted, licking Connor’s chin. “I think he likes me.”

“Of course he does. He can tell a nice guy when he see’s one.” Candice playfully nudged Connor. “If you needed an invitation to stop by, this is it. He needs to be socialized. As do you, I imagine.”

“You’d be surprised. He’s not so bad.” I chuckled.

“Then you’ll be in perfect shape in no time. When did you wake up?” Candice asked him, her wording careful and discrete. But Connor’s brow furrowed with confusion. 

“Today.” I answered on his behalf. 

Her eyes lit with excitement and she clapped her hands giddily. “Congratulations, Connor! How exciting? This is a big day.”

He sheepishly nodded as the realization dawned on him, “It…has been an adjustment.”

“Oh, poor guy. It will get easier. Believe you me.” She gave his hand a conciliatory squeeze. “And you’re in wonderful hands with Ellie. She is the sweetest person I’ve ever met. “

“You don’t have to lie just because I’m standing here.” I folded my arms to fight back a shiver. And to hide my discomfort with the compliments she casually rattled off. 

“Oh, please! When I first woke up, I was confused and scared. I didn’t know what to do. I’d never had to **_decide_** anything for myself before. But you were so kind to me. You always have been. You helped me figure out who I was and what I wanted to become. Really, I don’t know where we’d be without you.”

“Me too, Ellie!” Justin chirped. “You gave me all the hugs I wanted, taught me how to tie my shoes, and gave me a Mommy all my own.”

“I don’t deserve that much credit. You would have done well for yourself without me. You both would have.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed, incensed by my unwillingness to accept a stream of compliments. “What they’re telling you is the truth. Whether you choose to accept that you are a wonderful selfless person or not, won’t change our observations.”

Candice tried (and failed) to conceal her amused chuckle. All the while, she shot him a knowing look. A look that was similar to the one she’d given him upon their introduction. If I wasn’t mistaken, the slightest hint of blue colored his cheeks. **And that’s not just because of the windchill.** Whatever she’d said to him in that conspicuous glance, had caused a visible reaction.

“Have you been finding supplies ok?” I asked, purposefully changing the subject as a way to break the tension. 

“It’s getting harder. We’ve had to resort to some less than ideal solutions.” Candice frowned and held little Justin closer.

“Send me a message with the things you need. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Ellie, you don’t need to worry about us. We’re ok. You taught me how to look out for myself, remember? Besides, you have enough to worry about. If _you_ need anything, please reach out to me. We’ll stay vigilant and let you know if we see anything suspicious. We won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Initially, I was confused by the dramatic shift in her tone. Then it hit me. 

**He told her about what happened the other night…**

With that realization my eyes flitted over to Connor and my agitation must have been obvious.

“Ellie, he only wants to protect you. And so do I—“

“Me too.” Justin wrapped his arms around my middle. I couldn’t find it in myself to be angry with any of them after that. “You’re part of our family, too. We love you.”

“Thank you. I love you too, little man. But this isn’t something you need to be worried about.” 

“I’ve already contacted the others. They know and they’re watching. We’ve got to have each other’s back, now more than ever. It’s getting worse out here. Every day there are more disappearances.” She whispered and for the first time I saw flashes of fear in her eyes. 

“What do you mean?”

She paused, collecting herself before she spoke. “Rupert is missing.”

“You never said anything…I’m so sorry.” I took her hand. 

“Is Rupert someone else Eleanora helped?” Connor inquired. 

“No. He was my friend. We met when I first got out on my own. He was my everything…” Candice responded. Her voice was melancholy, yet resigned. I didn’t know what to say or if there was anything that I could do to help. Either way it hurt to see her so heartbroken, knowing that there was little hope of finding him again. The disappearances had become a fact of life, only now this somber reality had hit much closer to home. 

“I hope that he’s able to find his way back to you.” Connor offered. 

“Thank you. I appreciate your optimism. But when we go missing, we don’t usually return.” Candice whispered. Somehow, she was still patient with him in spite of his naiveté and her own sadness. 

No one deserved to go through what she was enduring. Life had been cruel to her in her former life. It wasn’t fair that the human world continued to deprive her of a sense of security and happiness. 

“If he’s gone forever, I just hope that he didn’t suffer.” She finally stated.

“I’m so sorry.” I hugged her tightly, “Maybe he’s inside the walls?”

“Maybe. If he is, I hope that he is ok. Even if he doesn’t remember me, I’d be ok knowing that he’s alright.” She sighed, “If things don’t get any better, we may have to go there too.” This time her voice was even quieter. 

“I understand. What about Henry?”

“He’s the only reason that we haven’t. If we left, it would break his heart. But…we might not have a choice. I have to protect Justin, no matter what.”

“I’m sure that Henry and his family would understand. You’d never make that kind of decision lightly. You have to do what’s best for the two of you. ”

The bus turned the corner and slowed as it approached our stop. 

“There’s your ride. Stop by sometime, ok?” She offered. 

“We will.” I hated to leave this unresolved, but I gave them each a tight hug. “If you have any doubt, get inside the walls. I won’t be upset if you can’t say goodbye. There will be time for that later. Just make sure that you are both safe." 

“Will do. See you around.” Candice waved and the three of them continued on as we boarded the bus. Considering the time of night, we were the only passengers so we claimed seats near the vent.

“What is being done about these disappearances?” Connor finally asked. 

“Not enough. You’d think after six years there would be laws in place and the infrastructure to enforce them. But it’s all a facade. People were willing to throw their support behind the cause when it was fashionable. They were afraid of the carnage a full out war between humans and androids would create. So they doled out rights to pacify everyone. Now that the novelty has worn off and things are getting uncomfortable, people want things to go back to the way they were, even if they won’t say so. They all turn a blind eye because confronting the reality would mean acknowledging that the problem is systemic.”

“And androids end up being used for parts.” He muttered, more to himself than to me. 

“If they’re lucky. Scrap-droids are given the dignity of shutting down. They’re spared the horrors and suffering the less fortunate ones endure.” I glanced in his direction, “Now do you see why I worry about you so much?”

“Thank you for taking the risk to save me. You’ve already sacrificed so much for my benefit and have yet to receive anything in return.”

I laughed, “Oh contraire. I’ve gotten plenty in return.”

A confused expression wrinkled his brow, “It doesn’t appear that way.”

“I get to be annoyed with you everyday. And you make amazing hot chocolate.” 

“That is trivial.” Connor replied dismissively. 

“If I hadn’t gone out of my way, you’d be with Franklin right now and who knows what he would have done to you. When you’re ready to go off on your own, I’m sure that you’ll pay it forward. You’re a good person with a kind heart. I can feel it.”

“How are you so sure? I don’t even know what kind of a person I am. In the short time that I’ve been active, I’ve done a handful of good things and even more to undo the work you’ve fought for. I hunted deviants—”

“A bad person wouldn’t question their actions. They wouldn’t care.”

“I hope that you’re right.’ He muttered, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. 

“By the way, what did Candice say to you that made you blush baby blue?” I asked, with a teasing little smile. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He was being evasive and that blue tint returned. 

“Ooh…don’t tell me you have a crush on her?” 

“What?” Genuine confusion contorted his expression. “I don’t have any romantic feelings for Candice.” 

“It’s ok if you _like-like_ her. I don't judge.” 

“As I said before, I don’t have any romantic feelings for Candice.” This time there was a glimmer of irritation in his eyes when he repeated himself. 

I leaned my head against his shoulder to avoid his gaze as I continued to tease him. “I knew it. You totally have a crush on her.”

* * *

About an hour later, we returned home. Connor pulled off his jacket and turned to take mine.

“C’mon. Let’s have a movie night.” 

“A movie night?”

“Yeah. That’s when we get cozy, watch some movies, and I’ll gorge on pizza and a milkshake.”

“That does sound appealing…” He mused.

“Of course it does.” I took him by the hand and led him upstairs. “Grab some PJs and we’ll regroup in my room in a few minutes.”

For the sake of both of our dignities, I stepped into the bathroom to slip into a comfy night shirt. When I returned, I found Connor sitting at the foot of the bed in sleep pants and a t-shirt. After pouring myself a shot to drink, I started a movie. I was in the mood for something light hearted to escape, so How to Train Your Dragon seemed like a good fit. Not to mention it seemed like something Connor might enjoy. It was an old classic that I’d grown up watching as a child with my parents before they’d split. Even if it was well before my time, the outdated CGI always reminded me of the few good memories that I had from my childhood.

“We’re going to have to find some of those android drinks for you. I always feel so self conscious about eating by myself.” I commented as I carefully pulled a slice of pizza from the box. 

“Why? It’s an essential function.”

“It’s a social thing, I guess. I either eat alone or with other people. The least you could do is have some Thirium jello or a spritzer. Think you’d like that?”

“If it would foster a closer friendship with you, then I’d be happy to make the effort.”

I paused, feeling something between surprise, veneration, and guilt. “It wouldn’t just be for my benefit.”

“Isn’t it? I don’t have a preference when it comes to replenishing my Thirium levels.”

“So far. You might find that you enjoy new textures or consistencies. They make all kinds of food alternatives that a lot of androids find enjoyable…so I’ve heard.”

“Maybe…” Connor didn’t quite seem persuaded, although he stopped trying to convince me.

“While we’re on the topic, you said that you’ve never had any real friends before. Was that because you were still following your programing or because you didn’t have the opportunity to meet anyone you wanted to be friends with?” I question. 

“Both?” He seemed a little unsure. 

“You have a strong protective instinct. Were you like that with your partner at DPD?”

“To a lesser extent. My partner didn’t need to be protected as often as you do.” He smirked.

“Bet not. I’m not a trained detective—“

“Lieutenant. He’s a lieutenant…or at least he was the last time I saw him.”

“Even better.” I took a pull of my drink, “Did you like being around him? You probably spent a lot of time together during investigations, right?”

Connor nodded. “Yes, we spent a lot of time together.”

“But did you like being around him?”

“Hank had a complicated personal life and an abrasive personality. When he wasn’t spending a lot of time in bars, he was delaying the progress of our investigations with poor attendance.”

“Wow. Great guy?”

“Yes. Personal issues aside, he was good at his job when he applied himself. And when he didn’t get in his own way, he was a good person.”

“Sounds like you do think highly of him after all.”

Connor shrugged, “Given a little more time, I think that we could’ve been friends. I think…even when I was following orders…I wanted him to better himself because I could tell that he wasn’t who he used to be. A lot of the time, he was is own worst enemy.”

“Ever thought about reaching out to him? It’s been six years. A lot can change in that time.”

“I doubt that he would be eager to reconnect with me.” 

Connor pulled his knees to his chest to rest his chin atop his forearms. It was such a natural gesture that for a moment, it was easy to forget he wasn’t flesh and bone.

“You don’t know that. I’d want you to check up on me if we ever lost touch.”

“You’re different—“

I laughed. “Oh, really?”

“I mean you’re different from Hank. He’s not as forward with his emotions.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them. You’re a pretty good judge of character, so if you say that he’s a good man, I believe you.”

“He is.” Connor affirmed. 

“Then maybe not today or even tomorrow, but I think you should reach out to him.”

“Really? You think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes, really. If you give it more time, you _could_ become friends. And you’ll never know unless you try.” 

Connor’s gaze returned to the movie. At best a tiny fraction of his processing power was dedicated to following the plot. The rest was otherwise engaged, made obvious by the way that his LED flickered from blue to yellow.

“You’re worrying about something aren’t you.” I prompted. 

“I don’t like this feeling.” Connor admitted. 

“What feeling is that?”

“I’ve always had a mission to accomplish. I’ve always known what to do next. From my activation until I shut down, every one of my actions had a purpose. And I thought that once I’d acquired the new features, this unpleasant feeling would subside. What do I do now?”

“Live. One day at a time. One minute at a time.” I took his hand and his eyes darted down for a split second. “Not everything you do has to have a purpose. It can be something as small as taking a walk because you want to feel the sun on your skin or humming a song because it crossed your mind. You don’t need a reason. You do it because you like it.”

“I like calibrating with my quarter.” Connor stated, unsure of what else to say.

“We already know that. Something else. First thing that comes to mind. Don’t think. Just do it, just to see how you like it.”

Connor leaned towards me and my heart stood still. Neither of us spoke as he drew closer, so close that I could feel the gentle flutters of his simulated breath against my cheek. I was frozen, hoping that he might press his lips to mine and praying that he didn’t at the same time. Then I surmised that he was reaching over me and the realization drenched me in a cold wave of embarrassment.

**You’re a fucking idiot.**

I immediately tore my gaze from his and pulled my hand from his grasp. Connor didn’t notice, and if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. He was more focused on whatever he’d been reaching for. That was when I noticed Connor dipping two fingers into the dollop of whipped cream on top of my milkshake. He brought them to his mouth, cleaning the sweet cream from his fingers with a slow lick. Without meaning to I bit my lip at the sight and I felt the place between my legs clench with excitement. 

**God you’re pathetic. You really thought he was going to kiss you?**

Only after I’d shaken the humiliation, did I double back to the fact that Connor had just eaten whipped cream.

**And put his fingers in your food. But we can only focus on so much all at once.**

“What are you doing?”

“Living. Just like you suggested.” Connor explained, “I’m sorry. I should have warned you. I can analyze samples in real time. I was curious about why you enjoyed whipped cream, so I decided to find out for myself.”

I groaned with frustration and leaned back against the headboard. “You can eat!?”

“No…not exactly. I’m capable of ingesting small quantities of organic material to analyze—” Connor frowned, his face twisting with disgust.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sensory overload. I should be able to detect other ingredients. It’s…there’s too much sucrose.”

For some reason that made me laugh, “It’s too sweet for you, huh?”

“I don’t like this.” Connor stated. 

“Glad you found out?” 

Despite his newfound aversion to sweets, he did perk up with that question. “Yes.”

“Good. Now don’t stick your fingers in my food again or we’re going to fight.”

Connor paused for half a second, clearly evaluating my response. Then a smile slowly pulled at his lips, “You wouldn’t win.”

“You don’t think I could take you in a fight?” I scoffed. 

“No, I don’t.”

“Then you’re mistaken. I know every stress point on your body.“

“As do I. I’m faster than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and I don’t feel pain.” He chuckled. “But none of that matters, because I know you won’t damage me.”

“Underestimate me at your own peril.” I warned. 

“We both know that I’m right.”

“No we don’t.” 

“You sobbed when you thought you’d damaged me less than 24 hours ago—”

“Shut up, Connor. I wasn’t crying.”

“Yes, you were.”

“Shut. Up. Ok?”

He could have stopped me when I shoved him onto his back, but he didn’t. Instead he flopped against the pillows and continued to lie there with an impish grin plastered on his face.

“Like I said, you won’t damage me.” Connor muttered. 

“But I might lock you in the garage overnight if you keep annoying me.”

“I might have complied with your orders before. Now…we might just have to fight about it.”

“God you’re annoying. A few new lines of code and you turn into a pain in the ass.”

“You’re welcome.” 

That adorable little smirk was enough to cause my heart to flutter all over again. Rather than continue this playful banter, it was best to let this die before I got myself into trouble that I couldn’t easily get out of. This time, we both turned our attention back to the movie. After a few minutes though, Connor turned his head to look at me again.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

**Oh no…**

“Ask and I’ll decide if I’m comfortable answering.”

“You worked at Cyberlife, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“I thought so. How long were you there?”

“Around five years. They recruited me my third year of college and I jumped at the opportunity. I was chasing a stupid fantasy…” I chuckled to myself before taking a shot. “And their offer was a dream come true.” 

“Why did you leave?”

“Because working there was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

“CyberLife? I don’t understand. You have a passion for androids—“

“That’s not what they’re about. Cyberlife was, and still is by the way, pure scum. All they care about is money and influencing the public to support their stance, so that they can continue to please their shareholders with higher profit margins. They never cared about their employees or the androids that they created. We were all the same to them, tools that they thought that they could use without regard for the consequences.”

“They’re a business. Profits are what they are designed to strive for.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m broke…because I put ethics ahead of profit.” 

“You were a technician?” Connor asked. 

“For a while, yes.” I was purposefully vague, so as not to delve too deeply into the subject. My past was my past, a complicated landmine riddled landscape that I rarely took people through. 

‘“Did something happen?”

“I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. Just take my word for it, Connor. CyberLife has always been toxic.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. That’s life.”

“No, I’m sorry that you had an unpleasant experience. I know what it’s like to be used by CyberLife too.”

“Looks like we have something in common after all.”

“Are we bonding?” Connor asked with a toothy grin. 

I chuckled. “Maybe?”

“I like it. We should do this more often.”

“Deal. Next time you owe me dinner.”

“Deal.”

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry this chapter is so late. Life got a little chaotic. Let me know what you think! The next chapter should be coming soon.


	6. Stress Level: ^ 87%

I buried my face in the bed pillows and screamed. All at once it was too much to silently endure. And as undignified as this felt, this was the only thing that I could control. It was the only way I could decant the overwhelming frustration and desperation that consumed me. I was drowning in emotions that I could no longer outrun and suffocating under the pressure. There was no one left to help me save myself. Worst of all, I only had myself to blame.

A quiet tap on the bedroom door snatched me back to reality. 

“Is everything ok?”

**No. I am very far from ok.**

“What do you want?” 

My voice was muffled, a fact that I was beyond grateful for once the pathetic trembling tone reached my ears. Before he’d answered my question, Connor cautiously ventured inside to place something on my dresser. 

“A package came for you.”

“Thanks. You can just leave it there.”

Under any other circumstances, I would’ve expected him to leave the room once he’d made his delivery. He tended to make himself scarce whenever I sank into one of my moods. Granted, I’d never been this unstable before. So it was a wise decision on his part to keep his distance, android or not. Despite this, Connor lingered in the doorway and his concern (and curiosity) was evident.

Sensing that I was being observed, I did my very best to compose myself.

“Are you working on another project for a client?”

“No. I was actually doing research into your Amanda problem.”

That instantly piqued his interest. He came to sit on the other side of my bed and right away I had his full attention.

“Have you discovered anything useful?”

“No. That’s why I’m frustrated. ” 

I finally sat up and gathered my tangled curls into a messy bun. It was a small gesture, but I felt just a little more grounded this way. And I was desperate to cleave to even the thinnest tether to my sanity. The fact that Connor hadn’t made any direct comments about my condition surprised me the most. Because he always noticed every fucking detail. 

“I can’t find anything. I’ve scoured every source I can think of for answers and there’s nothing. Not that I expected anything different…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re a prototype. Every line of your code is proprietary. No one would be stupid enough to circulate anything related to your research and development if they needed their career or wanted to stay out of prison for the next twenty-five years. At least they wouldn’t divulge anything through public channels.”

“Oh. I should have assumed that you’d be privy to all available resources…even the illegal ones.” 

“What do you mean by that?” I challenged.

“Nothing judgmental, I assure you. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Aside from handing over a full copy of your operating system?”

He tensed, “Yes. Aside from that.”

“Nope.” I tossed the tablet aside and fell back against the comforter. “Please don’t think that I’m not trying. I really… _really_ am.” 

**Don’t you dare start crying.**

“I’ve never thought that you weren’t trying.”

“Only because you’re way too polite to say it to my face.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. You promised me you would help me find a solution and I believe you. Agonizing over dead ends isn’t going to help. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but _we will_ find a lead. Right now, you need to relax. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately—“

“I’m **always** stressed. That’s nothing new.”

“But the level of emotional strain you’re under right now isn’t healthy. Prolonged periods of stress can manifest into physical symptoms and could be detrimental to your overall wellbeing.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” 

My tone was dismissive, but not because I was annoyed with him. He was right. It was a reality that took more strength than I had to face. I feared what I would become if I let my guard down. Maybe if I relaxed, all of the fragile pieces I’d managed to hold together for so long would shatter and there’d be nothing left of me.

“You’re useless to both of us if you have a nervous breakdown.”

“They don’t call them nervous breakdowns anymore…at least they didn’t the last time I had one.” I murmured with a cynical chuckle. 

“Either way, it would be unfortunate to witness …” 

This time his voice was a bit somber, revealing the genuine emotions he’d yet to fully embrace. But I could read between the lines: _It would break my heart to see you fall apart like that._

“It might be good to have someone look after you for a change. If you’d allow me to, I could help you relax.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, I don’t. But you would feel much better if I did. I think I would too.” 

I chuckled, “What did you have in mind?”

“I could run you a hot bath, then give you a nice deep tissue massage.”

**Christ on a bike…**

It took me more than a few seconds to collect my thoughts. Perhaps he was unbothered by how intimate the gesture was or he simply lacked the social awareness to foresee how I might respond. **…Or maybe he does?** Now I’d layered one uncomfortable internal struggle onto another. 

“You’d really do that for me?” 

My heart was pounding so hard against my ribs that I was sure that he could hear it. And I was positive that every attempt I made at downplaying this knee-jerk reaction was as transparent as glass. 

**But I had to try.**

“Of course. It’s the very least that I could do. There are studies that suggest a positive correlation exists between reflexology and lowered stress levels. Elevated stress hormones such as cortisol can be detrimental to your overall wellbeing in the long term. I’d be happy to target the pressure points that are the most apt to provide relief. If it is alright with you, of course. They tend to be located in rather sensitive areas—“

“God, I’d love to see what your hands could do to me.” I heard myself say. It wasn’t a conscious decision. More like an idea that I couldn’t yank back into my head fast enough.

Just the thought of having his hands caressing my skin, unraveling the tension all over my body was enough to induce momentary insanity. I was desperate to feel his touch, to have his nimble digits stroking the aching bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. A bolt of arousal rushed from my belly to my pussy as I imagined those long fingers sliding into my wetness. How diligent were those fingers? Diligent enough to find that spot that would leave me writhing beneath his touch as he coaxed me closer to my climax with every stroke. 

These unwelcome thoughts came without warning, teasing me with the briefest taste of that “relief” he was so eager to help me find.

“I could even shampoo your hair for you too, if you like. Then I could work my way from your head to your toes, starting with a scalp massage. I promise, I won’t miss an inch.” 

When that husky voice uttered those words, my gaze settled on his lips. Imaginings of him soapy and wet flashed in my mind. I longed to feel his hands in my hair, working their way down to the nape of my neck to pull my lips to his. Flesh against tender synthetic skin and the gentle thrum of his thirium circulation against my bare breasts as I straddled his thighs. 

Would his pulse quicken if I bruised those soft lips with my teeth? Would he whimper in submission or moan my name when I sank onto his cock? I remembered how it felt to be held in his arms. That was one privilege I didn’t need to imagine, but it was one that I was eager to feel again. I wanted him to hold me close just like before, while he bucked his hips to match my rhythm. 

And once my body couldn’t take another second of friction and my veins flooded with the oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin, would he be able to taste my satisfaction with just a kiss? Would he cling to me as he reached his orgasm? Or whisper tender words of adoration as we basked in the afterglow? 

There were so many questions that I wanted answered and yet…

The moment his eyes locked with mine, I felt completely exposed. It was almost as if he might be able to read my mind. 

**Oh, no.**

“Are you feeling ok? I’ve detected a notable increase in your heart rate and respiration. You may be experiencing an episode of panic related to your recent trauma.”

I shook my head and forced myself to look away from him. “No. It’s nothing like that—“

He lifted my chin and held my gaze. “It is nothing to be embarrassed about. If you need to talk, I am happy to activate the counseling protocols.” 

“Connor. I’m fine—“ 

The doorbell rang, breaking the tension of the moment. 

**Who in the fuck is that?**

“Are you expecting any guests?”

“No.” My brow furrowed and I hurried to look through the bedroom window. Now he was on alert and his demeanor became somewhat protective. Then I saw the familiar vintage car parked out front. I sighed, “Dammit, Angie.”

“Your sister?” Connor questioned.

I cast a glance over my shoulder at him. “Yes. One of my least favorite humans.” 

As I made my way to the foyer, she began to ring the bell incessantly. 

“For fucks sake! I’m coming Ange—“ I yanked open the door. 

“Good morning to you too.” 

I rolled my eyes, “To what do I owe this displeasure.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me.”She swaggered through the doorway with her usual confidence and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Fine, I am. It would have been nice if you’d called ahead or something.”

“I did. Fourteen times. Is your phone broken or something?”

**Oh…right. It’s at the bottom of a lake.**

“Or something.” I answered sheepishly. “Why are you here, again?”

“Because Dad was worried. We haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Typical. Is it a man or an android this time?”

“What do you mean _typical_?”

“Don’t play dumb. You only fall off the grid when you’ve got a new project or when you’ve got a new boy toy. Now which is it?”

“None of your business.”

“Oh please. Your business is my business. Hello! Any men hiding around here—“ 

Of course that was when Connor decided to enter the room. 

**Fan-fucking-tastick.**

While Angie had been joking, it was clear that she was overjoyed to have been proven right. After a beat of stunned silence, she smiled. 

“Hey there, handsome.”

“Angie…” I warned. 

“God I love it when I’m right.”

Connor was slightly taken aback by her appearance, considering she was my identical twin. Sure androids of the same model often encountered one another, but for androids it was much easier to tell them apart using several wireless identifiers. 

“Hello, Angela. My name is Connor.” He introduced himself. 

“No, it’s nice to meet you Connor. Call me Angie.” She smiled, taking his hand to greet him. Then she noticed the LED on his temple. “Wait…you’re an android!?”

“I am.”

“What model are you?”

“I am an RK800.”

“I’ve never heard of that model before.” Angie quickly looked at me for clarification “What was he designed to do?”

“I’m a prototype.” He supplied. Our eyes met and his expression suggested that this was as much as he wanted Angie to know about his original purpose. In silent agreement, I respected his position with a subtle nod. 

“Right. Prototype is just the catch all term for the models they use to test new hardware tech and software features. They’re kind of a jack-of all trades. Nothing super specific.” I lied. 

“Interesting. How many RK800s are there like you? Just you?”

“No. There were a total of ten RK800 model androids manufactured at the time of my activation.”

“Ellie…I **_need_** one.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “You have to get me one of his hot dectuplet brothers. Please please please!”

“He’s not a fucking accessory.” I glowered. “And even if I could get my hands on another RK800, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave him alone with you.”

“So it’s only ok for you to have them all to yourself?” Angie crossed her arms. I was a little shocked that she didn’t stamp her foot and pout like a child throwing a tantrum. 

**As was her way.**

“I’m not keeping him all to myself—”

“Then the least you could do is share.” She winked at Connor. “Let me borrow him for a couple days? I’ll take very good care of him.”

“No. Behave yourself and stop harassing him. ”

“He can tell me if I’m bothering him or not. Am I bothering you Connor?”

Connor cast another cautious glance in my direction, “Your behavior is upsetting, Eleanora. If you continue to cause her emotional distress, I’ll have no choice but to ask you to leave.”

“Meow…he has a protective streak. Me like.”

“Angie. For the love of all that you hold sacred…stop.”

“Fine fine fine.” She waved her hands in defeat. “I quit. You win…this time.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Connor offered. A not too insignificant part of me wanted to stop him, but I could tell that in his own way, he was trying to make the situation a little better.

“Tea please.”

He nodded and headed to the kitchen. 

“Did Dad really send you?” I questioned.

“In a way.”

I scoffed, “That means no.”

“No, it doesn’t. You know how he is—“ 

“With me.” I corrected. “He’d flip this city upside down if you went missing for a day. It takes him weeks to send you to check up on me.”

“You know that’s not true. He just respects that you like your space. You always have.” Angie urged. She pulled me in for another hug and at first I resisted. “Seriously, how have you been little sis’ ?”

“Fine.”

She touched my cheek, “I know that tone. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing. Are you in trouble?”

“I’m always in trouble.” 

“Money trouble?” 

**And _trouble_ trouble.**

While I was reluctant to be honest with her, there was no point in denying it. 

“Yes.” 

“Worse than last time?” 

“Yes. Much worse.”

Angie sighed, “Will ten thousand cover it?”

“What?”

“How much do you need?”

“No! I can’t ask you—“

“Ellie, I’m not asking for your permission. How. Much.”

“Twenty thousand.” I whispered. 

“You must _really_ be in trouble.” Angie stepped back, “And you always lowball when you’re desperate.”

“We already established that. There’s no need to humiliate me further.”

“I’ll talk to Dad. In the meantime, I can transfer what you need until he can help you get back on your feet.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t. That’s what sisters are for.” A suspicious grin began to take over her expression.

I lifted my brow, “What is it?”

“Well…I actually popped over because I really need a favor. And now you kind of owe me.”

“Don’t I always?”

“I’ve been invited to perform at the Peace Gala—“

“Oh! You mean that bullshit charity event they throw every year under the guise of reaching out to Jericho?” I declared with feigned excitement. 

“I know that you don’t think it’s worth it, but that’s not why you need to be there.” 

Now she had my attention. I’d never openly admit this curiosity, but my interest was piqued. 

“Tell me then.” I replied. 

“Some important people have agreed to attend this year. The leaders from Jericho, Markus and Simon. And some folks from outside of the walls…for example Kamski—“

“I should have known.”I groaned. 

“This could finally be your chance—“

“Angie, I don’t want any parts of this. I’m fucking done with him and everything that he ever stood for.” I argued through grit teeth.

“When everyone turned their backs on you, I stood by you didn’t I?” Angie urged. 

“Then you know what I went through. You **_know_** why I can’t do this.”

“This is the first year that the leaders from Jericho have agreed to come. Hell, they finally dragged Eli out of his hermit lair for the first time in years. _This_ is an opportunity to make things right—“

“I said no!” I shouted, although the tremble in my voice was impossible to miss. 

“The Ellie I know isn’t afraid of anything” She softly prodded. 

“Then you clearly don’t know me very well anymore.” I swept away the tears that fell from my eyes. “The Ellie you knew is gone.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Angie was shaken by my sudden emotional breakdown. “Something else is going on, isn’t it?”

“Please…just don’t ask. Ok? I’m fine. Everything is fine.” 

She didn’t believe me (not that she should have), although she ultimately decided not to push harder. 

“How long has he been here with you?”

“A month I guess?” I shrugged. “The days all blend together.”

“Is he fixed yet?”

“He’s not a dog, Ange—“

“You know what I mean." 

“I’m still trying to source the parts to fix a few small issues. Otherwise, he’s fine.”

“Yes, yes he is.” Angie chuckled.

“Would you quit it.” I scolded. 

“Oh come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” I blushed and refused to answer her question. My avoidance said it all and she shot me a knowing look. “I’m not judging. You’ve been single for a while now and you’ve always had a soft spot for plastics.”

“We’re not like that. I’ve never been that way and I don’t plan on starting now.” I replied in a hushed voice. “Besides it’s safer to be alone where I can’t fuck up anyone else’s life.”

“Fine.” She looked away, “I’m sure Kamski or someone from inside the walls has access to all kinds of resources Connor could use. And I imagine you’re lacking some critical components for the others you help from time to time.”

“Why can’t you let this go?” 

I walked away from her and sat on the sofa. 

“Because I can’t stand by and watch you throw away the opportunity you’ve waited six and a half years for. You fought your whole career—“

“Destroyed my career you mean.” I laughed cynically. 

“If you don’t even try, you’ll regret it. I can feel it, Ellie. It’s twintuition.”

“Stop blaming things on twintuition.”

“Let me help then. I’m good with people and I can get you close. Besides, I’ve heard that Kamski keeps a haram of Chloe’s for personal use. Maybe he really has a latent kink for twins that we can use to our advantage—“

“Gross. You just want to fuck him. The same asshole that left the company with his reputation intact while I lost everything.” I hissed. 

At this point Connor returned with her tea. “Do you think if I introduced myself he would help me address this Amanda issue?” 

Now I glared at him too, “You’re not going to the Gala because **we’re not going** to the Gala.”

“Then you get to ask Dad for ten thousand dollars.” Angie countered.

**Bitch.**

“I’m allowed to bring a plus one. So if Connor wants to go, I’m more than happy to bring him along as my guest. Just because you want to be a stick in the mud doesn’t mean he has to miss out.”

“I appreciate your generosity. I’d like to accompany you.” Connor smiled. 

“Great. It’s a date.” She winked at him. 

His smile quickly faded, “A date? No. Wait. I think I may have misunderstood the terms of your invitation—“

“When is the Gala?” I interrupted. 

“Weekend after next. We’ll need to find a dress. Anything that’s flattering on me will be flattering on you. And Connor needs a dapper suit. Though I’m sure he’ll look great no matter what we put him in.”

I rolled my eyes, “Angie, I’m about five seconds from backhanding you.”

“Get dressed. After I finish my tea, we’re going shopping. My treat.” She smiled, immaculate burgundy lipstick brightening her lips. 

“Sometimes, I really hate you.” I muttered. 

“Love you too, sis.”

* * *

We piled into Angie’s car. Connor took the backseat while I got into the passengers side. 

“I’m surprised that you prefer to drive a manual vehicle.” Connor commented.

“I don’t prefer it, actually. My favorite car is being serviced. It’s autonomous. But every now and again, I get to take Dad’s manual for a drive. It’s so…vintage.” Angie enthused. 

“Let’s just get this over with.” I grumbled. 

“Would you relax? Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

“Relax!? With you behind the wheel? Not a chance.”

“Hey! I got my license before you did.” Angie challenged. 

“Only because Dad bought you a car for our fifteenth birthday.” I muttered. 

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you? I didn’t ask him to and I drove you everywhere with me anyway.”

“That’s not the point. What kind of parent buys one twin a car and gives the other $150 in store credit to a fucking soap and lotion boutique?”

“He knew that we’d share our gifts anyway.”

“Again, that’s not the point.” Another heavy silence passed as she pulled onto the main road. I clutched the arm rest each time she veered within inches of the parked cars along the roadside. 

“I’ve already called ahead and made an appointment at Darwin’s for a fitting. They just released the winter collection and I’m dying to see the new pieces. The line is very antique, inspired by trends of the early 1900s. Glenda is an actual magician.” I heard Angie talking and my attention drifted. This was all familiar territory with her. And the rest of our family if I were being honest. Pretentious drivel that lacked substance.

**Just like old times.**

“Hello? Are you?” I heard Ange ask me. 

“What?”

“Were you even listening?”

“No, not really.”

“I said you should stay at my place the night before the Gala. We need to be identical if this is going to work. That means, hair, nails, and make up. The works. Considering how you aren’t on a regular schedule with the salon, it could take some time. Are you ok with that?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Well…no. Not really. I just expected a little more of your usual enthusiasm.” She teased. 

I rolled my eyes. “Oh joy.”

“That’s better.”

“Do you live nearby?” Connor asked. 

“To here? Heavens no.” She chortled at the thought of stooping so low. “It’s a little too…rough and tumble for my tastes.”

“Is that what you’re calling it now?” I murmured.

“Until a month ago, I used to live around the corner from Karl Manfred’s estate. You know the late artist? I live Downtown now. I just got a new penthouse.”

“I’ve heard of him, but I’m unfamiliar with the area.”

“Look it up?” She prompted, confused that he would even confess to not knowing something. 

“I can’t. My transmitters are damaged. I can only access information stored on my local drives.”

“Oh…sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s ok. Hopefully once we speak with Mr. Kamski the issue will be temporary.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.” I added.

“Well…like I was saying, it’s a nicer area. You know he actually gifted Dad a few pieces over the years.”

“He doesn’t give a shit about Dad’s art collection. **I** don’t give a shit about Dad’s art collection.”

“I’m just trying to make small talk. I don’t know what to talk about with either of you and you know how much I hate awkward silences.”

“Stop the car.” Connor stated abruptly. 

Angie looked into the rearview mirror in confusion, “What? Why—“

“Stop the car! Please.” He said more urgently and Angie slammed on the breaks. I lurched forward and put my arms forward to protect myself from hitting the dashboard. 

Before either of us could whip around to question his strange demands, Connor was already out the back, rushing across the busy street. 

“Connor wait!” I called after him.

“Is he malfunctioning?” Angie asked, as genuine worry shone in her eyes. 

“I don’t know.” 

I hurried to unbuckle my safety belt to give chase. A car skidded to a stop, inches from hitting him. Unbothered by the near miss, Connor nimbly course corrected and continued on his mad dash to the other side of the road. The closer I got, the better I could see that he’d approached a man at the Chicken Feed food truck. The taller grey haired man stepped back with surprise and a shocked look frozen on his face. It looked like he’d seen a ghost. 

“I thought you were dead.” He put down his burger to hug Connor. The man smile and looked over Connor with relief in his weary eyes. 

I stopped a good distance away to watch from afar. The last thing I wanted was to intrude. It was obvious that they knew each other, or had in his past life, and this man was significant to him in some way. 

“It’s good to see you, son.” The older man finally stated. 

Connor smiled. “It’s good to see you too.”

That was when the older man noticed me, “She with you?” 

He quickly turned to look at me and a smile flashed across his face. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Hi.” I waved uncomfortably as I approached. 

“This is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He was my partner at the DPD.”

“Nice to meet you.” Hank firmly shook my hand. 

“Likewise.”

“And you are?” He continued. 

“Ellie. I’m a friend of his.”

“I never thought you had any friends.” Hank chuckled, although the tone of his voice suggested that it wasn’t all jest.

“Well…I didn’t until recently.” Connor replied.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m glad to see you, but I thought you were dead. Last time I saw you, you were hauling ass over it to CyberLife Tower. Markus said that you…didn’t make it back. What happened?”

Immediately, Connor’s brow furrowed in confusion, “The last time that I saw you, we were at Stafford Tower—“

“Jesus.” His admission seemed to wound the older man. Hank scratched at his beard, recovering from the mild shock. “It’s been that long for you. You…died then…didn’t you?”

“In a way. You must have known my successor very well.” Connor appeared crestfallen. The thought of being just another android to someone who clearly meant a great deal to him wasn’t something he was prepared to confront. 

“I did. He was a good man.” Hank replied, though that did little to repair the blow his words had inadvertently dealt. “But you saved my life. And a part of you lived on in him.”

“I was just doing what I was programmed to do—“

“That’s bullshit. You and I both know that. How’d you…y’know…come back?” 

“Ellie was kind enough to provide the necessary repairs to allow my reactivation. She gave me a second chance. ”

“Thank you for patching him up. He was a royal pain in my ass, but he grows on you.” Hank admitted.

“That he does.” I mirrored his good natured smile.

“Well then, no good deed should go unpunished. Why don’t the two of you swing by the bar tomorrow night. We should catch up. Have a round of drinks on me for fixing him. And I’m sure the guys from the precinct would love to know you’re still ticking after all these years.” 

More than anything, I was excited for Connor to have an opportunity to reconnect with his old partner and to socialize for a change. At the same time, the thought of paling around with a precinct full of cops was the absolute last thing I was interested in doing.

“If Connor wants to…” I answered nervously.

“That would be nice.” Connor agreed with a smile. Although when he glanced in my direction, he changed his mind. “Actually…maybe dinner would be better. Ellie likes Chinese food and if my memory serves me right, so do you.”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll order in. Just the excuse I needed to get out of Robertson’s retirement party.” He laughed.

The jovial expression returned to his face, “Would you be ok with that?” Connor asked. 

I forced another uncomfortable smile, “I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do. Don’t let me get in the way—”

“You wouldn’t be in the way. A friend of his is a friend of mine.” Hank offered.

With the two of them looking at me expectantly, I had no choice but to agree. “Sure. Chinese food sounds great—“

“Hello!? Either of you mind telling me why you left me in the middle of the intersection?” Angie shouted as she approached. 

“Shit, there’s two of ‘ya? You an android too?” Hank murmured, turning to look at me and then Angie.

“No.” We answered in unison and I glared at Angie for intruding. 

**You’re not helping.**

Hank laughed and gave Connor a firm congratulatory pat on the back. “Nicely done. You’ve earned my respect, son.”

Rolled my eyes at the implication of that comment, “Ange. It’s fine. Connor just saw an old friend.”

“So he tucked and rolled out of a moving vehicle?”

“It wasn’t moving. Stop being melodramatic.”

“I can tell you three have somewhere to be. See you kids tomorrow. You know where to find me.” Hank laughed.

“See you tomorrow, Hank.” Connor responded as he turned back to the car.

* * *

“There you are, Ellie. Glenda held this back just for us. This is gorgeous. Isn’t it?” 

My sister hurried through the isle. She carried a flowing chiffon drape dress. The bodice crisscrossed the chest, covering just enough of my breasts to be considered decent. The cut out along my breastbone, waist, and back revealed far more skin than I was comfortable with. That didn’t even consider the high slit that parted along the left side. The dress was a soft ombre lavender that glistened with the shine of embedded LED crystals when she held it up for me to see. The shade complimented our golden complexion. Objectively, it was beautiful. In spite of how flattering it was, there was no way that I could bare spending an entire evening in something this opulent. 

“I’m really not trying to draw attention to myself.“

“What have you picked out then?”

I held up a simple black cocktail dress.

“Oh, god. We’re not in mourning! You can do better than that. C’mon show a little cleavage. You’ve got the tits for it.” Angie gave my breasts a forceful nudge and I slapped away her hand. 

“You can do whatever you want with your tits. Mine aren’t going to be on display to help you get laid—.”

“Well that _certainly_ won’t happen if I let you dress us.” She whined, “How’s it coming Connor. Did you find something your size?”

“Yes. I’ll be out in a minute.” He said from behind the curtain. 

“Nice job. You’re much better at this than Ellie.” Ange took the black dress that I’d been holding and shoved the other in my hands. “Now get in there and try this on.”

“For fucks, sake.” I muttered under my breath. 

With great displeasure, I did as she said. The silky material felt like butter against my skin, conforming to my curves with ease. And as much as it pained me to admit, it looked just as wonderful as it felt. I turned in the mirror to get a better look at the backless portion. At the turn of the lower v, the flowing fabric fluted into the train. 

**Why does she always have to be right?**

“Is this appropriate for the occasion? I used my best judgment. These are the correct dimensions for my frame.” I could hear Connor state as he exited the dressing room across the isle, followed by Angie’s overdramatic gasp. 

“That’s perfect! You look amazing. Then again, you’ll look great in anything.” Without warning, Angie pulled back the curtain to peak at me. “You almost look as nice in it as I do.”

I stepped out of the dressing room to take a look in better lighting. 

“She’s beautiful isn’t she, Connor?”

“Yes…” His searing gaze traveled down my body. “Stunning.”

I twirled in place and the skirt fluttered around me. “Well if Connor says it’s nice, I believe him.”

“Does my opinion mean anything to you?” Angie glowered.

“No. It’s just another manifestation of your narcissism.”

“Ouch.” She placed a silver diamond headband over the messy bun of curls. “You can’t do better than this.” 

“No. You can’t.” Connor admired, speaking more to himself than to either of us. 

I pinched my eyes shut to fight back the blush that I was sure would give me away. 

“This is the one. You can’t change my mind. I’ll find Glenda so she can take your measurements.” 

With that she bounded off to find the assistant and I finally let out a sigh of relief. Shopping was not my favorite pastime. Shopping with Angie fell even lower on my list of preferred activities. But having Connor there did make it tolerable. 

“I don’t think Hank meant to offend you earlier.” I mentioned, now that we had a moment alone. 

Connor looked up. “No. I don’t either.”

“But you still seemed upset…” I observed. 

“It was unpleasant to hear him speak about me and to have no memory of our interactions.”

I squeezed his arm to reassure him, “I can’t say that I know exactly how that feels, but I can imagine that it’s not great.”

“No. It’s not.” Connor offered. “If you don’t want to accompany me to Hank’s tomorrow, I understand.”

“What? I never said that I didn’t want to go with you.”

“You didn’t have to. I could tell you were uncomfortable."

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just…socially awkward. You two know each other and I’m afraid that I’d just get in the way.”

“You won’t. I want you to come because I want Hank to get to know you.”

Following that statement, I didn’t try to hide my curious smile. It was more direct than he probably intended. 

“And why is that?”

He hesitated. It seemed like Connor hadn’t really asked himself that question. That once familiar conflicted look settled into his expression. 

“It’s difficult for me to articulate…” He confessed. 

“Well when you figure it out, feel free to share.” I slipped back into the dressing room as Angie returned with Glenda in toe. 

“Why am I the only one getting fitted?” I asked her. 

“Because Glenda already has my dimensions on file. Now be still so she can scan you.”

I did as I was told and stood like a good little barbie doll in front of the mirror. In the reflection I could see Connor lingering in the periphery. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall, lost in thought or perhaps observing. Maybe doing both. His gaze was more intense than usual. There was something there. Something **more**. Maybe it had always existed in some form. But not to this extent. While I couldn’t put my finger on just what had changed, something had. 

**And I need to know what that _something_ is.**

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry this update took so long. Let me know what you think! Tell me what you liked, what you didn't, or what you'd like to see in future chapters.
> 
> P.S. Please excuse any typos or wonky text. I don't have a beta and I do the best I can in my spare time. :)


End file.
